Fair Rosamond; or, The days of king Henry ii1839 |
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الصفحة 13
... saint . Her sweet lips were now slightly apart , and the returning breath came over her white and pearly teeth , like the gentle air stealing through a row of lilies . Here and there , too , the white foam bells of the river had broken ...
... saint . Her sweet lips were now slightly apart , and the returning breath came over her white and pearly teeth , like the gentle air stealing through a row of lilies . Here and there , too , the white foam bells of the river had broken ...
الصفحة 16
... saints , I will break the bones of him who handleth her more roughly than he would a holy relic ; " — and resting her head gently on his arm , while her long fair hair , which was unbound , fell down in clusters , and 16 FAIR ROSAMOND .
... saints , I will break the bones of him who handleth her more roughly than he would a holy relic ; " — and resting her head gently on his arm , while her long fair hair , which was unbound , fell down in clusters , and 16 FAIR ROSAMOND .
الصفحة 67
... saint or sinner . Her grandfather was a cele- brated troubadour , one of the most licentious , and his are considered the oldest lays which are extant . He offered to pledge the duchy of Aquitaine to William Rufus ; he built an abbey ...
... saint or sinner . Her grandfather was a cele- brated troubadour , one of the most licentious , and his are considered the oldest lays which are extant . He offered to pledge the duchy of Aquitaine to William Rufus ; he built an abbey ...
الصفحة 124
... saints ! she looks like a woman who cannot lack gratitude . May Beelzebub pound me beneath his horned hoof , if I do not venture for such a dainty morsel . " He held up the lamp , and looked carefully around ; but not a soul was astir ...
... saints ! she looks like a woman who cannot lack gratitude . May Beelzebub pound me beneath his horned hoof , if I do not venture for such a dainty morsel . " He held up the lamp , and looked carefully around ; but not a soul was astir ...
الصفحة 141
... saint , nevertheless a strange consciousness of her loneliness crept over her spirit , which , together with the pain she had suffered , and a feeling of weariness , made her wish for death . She felt a kind of foreboding that her life ...
... saint , nevertheless a strange consciousness of her loneliness crept over her spirit , which , together with the pain she had suffered , and a feeling of weariness , made her wish for death . She felt a kind of foreboding that her life ...
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added amid answered apartment Archbishop Archbishop of Canterbury Archbishop of York armour arms barons beautiful beside bishop Bishop of Hereford blood bosom brow castle caught cheek church cold countenance danger dare dark death deep didst England exclaimed eyes face fair Rosamond fear feelings fell Fitzurse Gamas Gobbo gazed Gilbert Foliot glance Glanvil Godstow Gryme hall hand hath head heard heart Heaven holy father honour huge Hugh de Morville instantly King Henry knight labyrinth lady leave light lips look loud mangonels matters Maud minstrel monarch monk never noble Norman once palace passed pause peace Pierre de Vidal postern Prelate Primate Queen Eleanor Reginald Fitzurse rode Rosamond saint Saxon scarcely seat secret seemed sigh silence sound spoke steed stood sweet tears thee thine Thomas à Becket thou art thou hast thou wilt thoughts threw throw tone turret uncon voice wind Woodstock wouldst
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 100 - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, . Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
الصفحة 179 - Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
الصفحة 91 - LEAR. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now.
الصفحة 179 - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.
الصفحة 75 - But when we in our viciousness grow hard, — O misery on't! — the wise gods seal our eyes ; In our own filth drop our clear judgments ; make us Adore our errors ; laugh at 's, while we strut To our confusion.
الصفحة 181 - Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
الصفحة 234 - Most curiously that bower was built Of stone and timber strong, An hundred and fifty doors Did to this bower belong : And they so cunninglye contriv'd With turnings round about, That none but with a clue of thread, Could enter in or out.
الصفحة 264 - In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.
الصفحة 205 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds, that lowered upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
الصفحة 122 - Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus : the flame o' the taper Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids...