Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 31, 2025
At the end of it, rather feebly, he tells her, in defence of his position, the thing which he had not confided to her before, plain enough indication that the goddess, to win whom he had given an eye, is not of his bosom's counsel any more. "This know! There is need of a hero who without aid from the gods should cast off the law of the gods.
'Tis true, on lady fortune's gentlest pad, I amble on; yet, though I know not why, So sad I am! but should a friend and I Grow cool and miff, oh, I am very sad! And then with sonnets, and with sympathy. My dreamy bosom's mystic woes I pall; Now of my false friend 'plaining plaintively, Now raving at mankind in gener-al But whether sad or fierce, 'tis simple all, All very simple, meek SIMPLICITY!
In peace, what each of them by the other loses That they combine not there? Cor. Tush; tush! Men. A good demand. Vol. Cor. Vol. Because that now, IT LIES ON YOU to speak To the people, not by your own instruction, Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you to, But with such words that are but rated in Your tongue though but bastards and syllables Of no allowance, to your bosom's truth.
"Father, it was your great misfortune, not your fault; she said it on her death-bed, and the words of the dying are sacred," said Ishmael earnestly, and caressing the pale, thin hand that he held. "Oh, Nora! Oh, Nora!" exclaimed Herman, as all his bosom's wounds bled afresh. "Father, do not grieve so bitterly; and after all these years so morbidly! God has wiped away all tears from her eyes.
Into thy bosom's holy, silent cells, Thou needs must fly from life's tumultuous throng! Freedom but in the realm of vision dwells, And beauty bears no blossoms but in song. Speechless to thousands of others, who with deaf hearts would consult him, Talketh the spirit to thee, who art his kinsman and friend.
William Wright stared at the door as it closed upon them. Hetty did not stir. To reach it she must pass him. She stood by the writing-table, her profile turned to him, her body bent with a great shame; suffering anguish, yet with an indignant pride holding it down and driving it inward as she repressed her bosom's rise and fall.
My life has been a burthen to me. But never mind. Tell me about my lord; my lord and master." "Lord Fawn?" "Who else? What other lord and master? My bosom's own; my heart's best hope; my spot of terra firma; my cool running brook of fresh water; my rock; my love; my lord; my all! Is he always thinking of his absent Lizzie? Does he still toil at Downing Street?
A shudder o'er me came, When of this race accursed the brothers twain Their hands embrued with kindred gore, I heard the dreaded name; Oft told, their strife and serpent hate With terror thrilled lay bosom's core: And now oh, hapless fate! I tremble, 'mid the rage of discord thrown, Deserted and alone!
Now doubting hangs, by awe possessed, And homage pays to that dread might, That judges what is hid from sight, That, fathomless, inscrutable, The gloomy skein of fate entwines, That reads the bosom's depths full well, Yet flies away where sunlight shines. When sudden, from the tier most high, A voice is heard by all to cry: "See there, see there, Timotheus! Behold the cranes of Ibycus!"
Your bosom's lord sits lightly on its throne, Mr Chuzzlewit, as what's-his-name says in the play. I wish he said it in a play which did anything like common justice to our profession, by the bye. There is an apothecary in that drama, sir, which is a low thing; vulgar, sir; out of nature altogether.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking