Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, Volumes 10-12Westermann, 1852 - Languages, Modern Vols. for 1858- include "Sitzungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für das Studium der neuren Sprachen." |
From inside the book
Page 187
Tamit ist zu vergleichen Sommernachtstraum 8 , 2 : Now the wasted brands do glow , whilst the scritch - owl , scritching loud , puts the wretch , that lies in woe , in remembrance of a shroud . ** ) Many times , beißt es bei Halliwell ...
Tamit ist zu vergleichen Sommernachtstraum 8 , 2 : Now the wasted brands do glow , whilst the scritch - owl , scritching loud , puts the wretch , that lies in woe , in remembrance of a shroud . ** ) Many times , beißt es bei Halliwell ...
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Contents
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Common terms and phrases
allgemeinen alſo alten Augen Bedeutung Begriff beiden beſonders Beziehung Bild Bildung Buch Charakter daher Darſtellung derſelben deſſen deutſchen Dichter Dichtung dieſe eben ebenſo eigenen eigentlich einige einzelnen engl Erklärung erſt erſten Fall fann feine ferner fich find findet folgende fönnen Form franzöſiſchen früher furz ganze geben Gebrauch Gedanken Gedichte gegeben gerade giebt gleich Göthe Gott großen Hand heißt Herr höheren indem Inhalt inneren iſt Jahre jeßt kleine kurz lang lange laſſen läßt Leben leicht lich Liebe Literatur machen macht manche Mann Menſchen muß müſſen näher Namen Natur neuen Poeſie Prop recht Rede rein richtig ſagt ſcheint ſchon Schule ſehr ſei ſein ſeiner Seite ſelbſt ſich ſie ſind Sinne ſolche ſoll ſondern Sprache Sprichwort ſtatt ſtehen ſteht Stelle Tage Theil tief unſerer Verf viel Weiſe weiter Welt wenig Weſen wieder wirklich wohl wollen Worte zwei zweiten zwiſchen
Popular passages
Page 189 - Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time...
Page 185 - I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ; Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine...
Page 189 - Soul of the age! The applause! delight! the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read, and praise to give.
Page 174 - For to that holy wood is consecrate A virtuous well, about whose flowery banks The nimble-footed fairies dance their rounds By the pale moonshine, dipping oftentimes Their stolen children, so to make them free From dying flesh and dull mortality...
Page 188 - Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
Page 62 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand, Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale.
Page 188 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate.
Page 34 - Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.
Page 349 - Je consens qu'une femme ait des clartés de tout : Mais je ne lui veux point la passion choquante De se rendre savante afin d'être savante; Et j'aime que souvent, aux questions qu'on fait, Elle sache ignorer les choses qu'elle sait : De son étude enfin je veux qu'elle se cache, Et qu'elle ait du savoir sans vouloir qu'on le sache...
Page 176 - Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes. spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world, Crack Nature's moulds, all germains spill at once, That makes ingrateful man!