Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 21, 2025
"Are these thy Mother Carey's chickens, Perth? they are always flying in thy wake; birds of good omen, too, but not to all; look here, they burn; but thou thou liv'st among them without a scorch." "Because I am scorched all over, Captain Ahab," answered Perth, resting for a moment on his hammer; "I am past scorching; not easily can'st thou scorch a scar." "Well, well; no more.
And when to Egypt Israel drew near He sent before him Judah, to prepare His way to Goshen, which when Joseph heard, Immediately his chariot he prepar'd; And unto Goshen he directly went, And to his father did himself present: And being over-joy'd fell on his neck, And for a good while thereupon he wept. Then Jacob said, Since thou yet liv'st, and I Have seen thy face once more, now let me die.
She is seeking her brothers in the forest, and sings to attract their attention: "Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy aery shell By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale, Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likest thy Narcissus are?
Thou go'st home to thy house anon, And there, as dumb as any stone, Thou sittest at another book, Till fully dazed is thy look; And liv'st thus as a hermit quite, Although thy abstinence is slight.
A large sense is of course to be given to the term moral. Whatever bears upon the question, "how to live," comes under it. "Nor love thy life, nor hate; but, what thou liv'st, Live well; how long or short, permit to heaven." In those fine lines Milton utters, as every one at once perceives, a moral idea.
"Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv'st unseen Within thy aery shell By slow Meander's margent green. And in the violet-embroidered vale, Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair That likes thy Narcissus are?
Indulge, and to thy Genius freely give: For, not to live at Ease, is not, to live: Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour. Live, while thou liv'st; for Death will make us all, A Name, a Nothing but an Old Wife's Tale. Speak, wilt thou Avarice or Pleasure choose To be thy Lord? Take one, and one refuse.
This is rather a whimsical application of the verb reflex we must confess, though we remember a similar transfer of the agent to the patient in a manuscript tragedy, in which the Bertram of the piece, prostrating a man with a single blow of his fist, exclaims "Knock me thee down, then ask thee if thou liv'st."
DON MANUEL. Chief of all that bear the name, I am Don Manuel, Prince of Messina! BEATRICE. Art thou Don Manuel, Don Caesar's brother? DON MANUEL. Don Caesar is my brother. BEATRICE. Is thy brother! DON MANUEL. What means this terror? Know'st thou, then, Don Caesar? None other of my race? BEATRICE. Art thou Don Manuel, That with thy brother liv'st in bitter strife Of long inveterate hate?
Except I make shift to circumvent this overbearing beast, I am lost without recourse; and how well says the poet: Provide thee by craft, for thou liv'st in a time Whose folk are as lions that lurk in a wood, And set thou the mill-stream of knavery abroach, That the mill of subsistence may grind for thy food, And pluck the fruits boldly; but if they escape From thy grasp, then content thee with hay to thy food.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking