Wrecked lives; or, Men who have failed, Volumen2 |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Wrecked Lives; Or, Men Who Have Failed William Henry Davenport Adams Sin vista previa disponible - 2023 |
Wrecked Lives; Or, Men Who Have Failed William Henry Davenport Adams Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Wrecked Lives; Or, Men Who Have Failed William Henry Davenport Adams Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Términos y frases comunes
accuse admiration Assembly attack beautiful blood Brissot Burns Camille Desmoulins career Champ de Mars character Cloth boards Convention courage crime Crown 8vo Danton death Edgar Allan Poe egotism eloquence enemies enthusiasm exclaimed execution eyes failure father favour feel force France French French Revolution friends G. H. Lewes genius German Girondists guillotine hand Haydon heart Hébert Hébertists Heine Heine's Heinrich Heine honour human idea Illustrations on toned Jacobin Club Jacobins Jean Jacques Rousseau justice king Kosciusko labour liberty literary lived look Louis Maximilien Maximilien Robespierre ment mind moral nation never nobles Paris passions patriotism pierre poems poet poet's Poland political popular Prussia punishment replied Revolution Robes Robespierre Russian Saint-Just says seemed sentiment soul speech spirit strong success Terror Third Estate thought Three full-page Illustrations tion toned paper tribune truth Warsaw young دو
Pasajes populares
Página 313 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of, forgotten lore, — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. '"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door: Only this and nothing more.
Página 316 - On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave — there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide — As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven.
Página 313 - Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore ; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door : — Darkness there and nothing more!
Página 174 - And wi' the lave ilk merry morn Could rank my rig and lass, Still shearing, and clearing The tither stocked raw, Wi' claivers, an' haivers, Wearing the day awa : Ev'n then a wish, (I mind its power,) A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breast ; That I for poor auld Scotland's sake, Some usefu' plan, or beuk could make, Or sing a sang at least.
Página 316 - Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town...
Página 166 - Indeed I did not know myself why I liked so much to loiter behind with her, when returning in the evening from our...
Página 315 - LO ! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest.
Página 316 - Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down.
Página 166 - You know our country custom of coupling a man and woman together as partners in the labours of harvest. In my fifteenth autumn, my partner was a bewitching creature, a year younger than myself. My scarcity of English denies me the power of doing her justice in that language, but you know the Scotch idiom: she was a "bonnie, sweet, sonsie lass".
Página 205 - He said he was well aware that his death would occasion some noise, and that every scrap of his writing would be revived against him to the injury of his future reputation : that letters and verses written with unguarded and improper freedom, and which he earnestly wished to have buried in oblivion, would be handed about by idle vanity or malevolence, when no dread of his resentment would restrain them...