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Updated: June 25, 2025
As I gazed, it seemed but an hour ago since I had heard those still lips conjugating the verb mourir for the behoof of poor ignorant me, and the words came back to me, and I could not help repeating them to myself as I looked: Je meurs, tu meurs, etc. I bent over and kissed the marble-cold forehead and said farewell in my heart, and went downstairs without a word.
The dark blue groups were thickening into crowds; muskets and pikes were here and there seen, and once he recognised the sinister red flag. A few distant shots were heard, and the driver would gladly have hastened his speed, but swarms of haggard-looking men began to impede their progress, and strains of 'Mourir pour la patrie' now and then reached their ears. Close to the Porte St.
And thus Talbot ran on into a strain of conversation, half serious, half gay, which lasted till Clarence went upstairs to lie down and muse on Lady Flora Ardenne. La vie eat un sommeil. Les vieillards sont ceux donc le sommeil a ete plus long: ils ne commencent a se reveiller que quand il faut mourir.
She heard her husband's voice softly humming: "Petit rocher de la haute montagne, Je viens finir ici cette campagne. Ah, doux echos, entendez mes soupirs; En languissant je vais bientôt mourir!" Trembling, she entered the room, with a cry on her lips. "Ah! Pat, mon ami, what is it? How camest thou here?"
When his instrument has come entirely to grief he turns to a clarionet, which he carries under his arm, and plays "Mourir pour la Patrie" with extraordinary vocal effect and irreverent gestures. Punch-and-Judy is largely attended at the other end; Punch is kitchen-pokering his wife, too, like the gentleman we have just left; but we pass in with the crowds to the Museum itself.
And there, too, half effaced by the damp, are fragments of inscriptions, which tell the same piteous tale of regret for vanished days and weary longings for the end that would not come. "Quand Mort me assault et que je ne puis mourir Et se courir on ne me veult, mais me faire rudesse Et de liesse me voir bannir. Que dois je plus guèrir?" Or this
He died singing the words, "Il faut mourir, pécheur, il faut mourir" to one of his own opera airs. Lulli was not only a composer, but created his own orchestra, trained his artists in acting and singing, and was machinist as well as ballet-master and music-director.
In ten years many of these aesthetes will have become common Academicians, working for the villas and perambulators of numerous families. Many will have disappeared for ever, some may be resurrected two generations hence, may be raised from the dead like Mr. Brabazon, our modern Lazarus "Lazare allait mourir une seconds fois," or perchance to sleep for ever in Sir Joshua's bosom.
"And hast thou wept whilst tears can flow, A tranquil peace thy heart will know; For sorrow, trivial or severe, Hath had its seat in every tear. "Think'st thou that He, whose love beholds The worm the smallest leaf enfolds, That He, whose power sustains the whole Forgets a world thy human soul?" "Mourir! c'est un instant de supplice: mais vivre?"
This prison was thrown open during the reign of the unfortunate Louis XVI. by the Baron de Breteuil, Minister of the Department of Paris in 1784. In going over it, every one was penetrated with horror; and feelings of the most melancholy interest were excited by reading the various inscriptions on the walls, indicative of the hopeless misery that had been experienced within them! Many were expressive of piety and resignation at the approach of death! others complaining of the cruel oppression which had immured them! On one wall was written, "Il faut mourir, mon frere; mon frere il faut mourir, quand il plaira
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