Moses Mendelssohn's gesammelte Schriften, nach den Originaldrucken und Handschriften, 4±Ç,ÆÄÆ® 1

¾ÕÇ¥Áö
F.A. Brockhaus, 1844

µµ¼­ º»¹®¿¡¼­

¼±ÅÃµÈ ÆäÀÌÁö

¸ñÂ÷

ÀÚÁÖ ³ª¿À´Â ´Ü¾î ¹× ±¸¹®

Àαâ Àο뱸

500 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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, why, it appears no other thing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
349 ÆäÀÌÁö - And ever against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...
411 ÆäÀÌÁö - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath? Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?
432 ÆäÀÌÁö - Or o'er the glebe distil the kindly rain; Others on earth o'er human race preside, Watch all their ways, and all their actions guide: Of these the chief the care of nations own, And guard with arms divine the British throne. 'Our humbler province is to tend the fair, Not a less pleasing, though less glorious care; To save the powder from too rude a gale, Nor let th...
431 ÆäÀÌÁö - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
432 ÆäÀÌÁö - Essences exhale; To draw fresh Colours from the vernal Flow'rs; To steal from Rainbows ere they drop in Show'rs A brighter Wash; to curl their waving Hairs, Assist their Blushes, and inspire their Airs; Nay oft, in Dreams, Invention we bestow, To change a Flounce, or add a Furbelow.
436 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tis she ! — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd ' Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell, Is it in heaven a crime to love too well ? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a Lover's or a Roman's part ? Is there no bright reversion in the sky For those who greatly think, or bravely die...
362 ÆäÀÌÁö - Shall then our nobler jaws submit To foam and champ the galling bit? Shall haughty man my back bestride ? Shall the sharp spur provoke my side ? Forbid it Heavens ! Reject the rein ; Your shame, your infamy, disdain.
405 ÆäÀÌÁö - And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well.
433 ÆäÀÌÁö - Form a strong line about the silver bound, And guard the wide circumference around. ' Whatever spirit, careless of his charge, His post neglects, or leaves the fair at large, Shall feel sharp vengeance soon o'ertake his sins.

µµ¼­ ¹®ÇåÁ¤º¸