Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, 19; 34; 36

˹
Westermann, 1864
Vols. for 1858- include "Sitzungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für das Studium der neuren Sprachen."
 

Դ繨ҡ - ¹Ԩó

辺Ԩó 觢ŷ

˹ҷ͡

Ѻ - ٷ

շ辺

˹ 208 - Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And, in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
˹ 213 - There is a history in all men's lives. Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd : The which observ'd, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life ; which in their seeds, And weak beginnings, lie intreasured.
˹ 200 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd 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.
˹ 207 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?
˹ 201 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; > I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; \ So let it be with Caesar.
˹ 185 - I've met with many a breeze before, But never such a blow." Then reading on his 'bacco box, He heaved a bitter sigh, And then began to eye his pipe, And then to pipe his eye. And then he tried to sing "All's Well," But could not though he tried; His head was turned, and so he chewed His pigtail till he died.
˹ 203 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
˹ 220 - I have of late but wherefore I know not lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire...
˹ 222 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him . The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
˹ 303 - Wenn ich mit Menschen- und mit Engelzungen redete, und hätte der Liebe nicht, so wäre ich ein tönend Erz oder eine klingende Schelle.

óҹء