Essays and Letters ... With a short memoir of the author

¾ÕÇ¥Áö
E. Nettleton, 1825 - 210ÆäÀÌÁö

µµ¼­ º»¹®¿¡¼­

¼±ÅÃµÈ ÆäÀÌÁö

±âŸ ÃâÆǺ» - ¸ðµÎ º¸±â

ÀÚÁÖ ³ª¿À´Â ´Ü¾î ¹× ±¸¹®

Àαâ Àο뱸

89 ÆäÀÌÁö - All schooldays' 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. So we grew together Like to a double cherry, seeming parted But yet an union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem, So with two seeming bodies but one heart, Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,...
79 ÆäÀÌÁö - There is a spot of earth supremely blest — A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride, While in his softened looks benignly blend The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend. Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife, Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life! In the clear heaven of her delightful eye, An angel-guard of loves and graces lie! Around her knees domestic .duties meet, And fireside pleasures...
172 ÆäÀÌÁö - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
140 ÆäÀÌÁö - Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped, and said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.
85 ÆäÀÌÁö - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
138 ÆäÀÌÁö - And wait th' appointed hour, till they're relieved. Those only are the brave that keep their ground, And keep it to the last. To run away Is but a coward's trick: to run away From this world's ills, that at the very worst Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves By boldly venturing on a world unknown, And plunging headlong in the dark; 'tis mad: No frenzy half so desperate as this.
161 ÆäÀÌÁö - With half that kindling majesty dilate Thy strong conception, as when Brutus rose Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate, Amid the crowd of patriots ; and his arm Aloft extending, like eternal Jove When guilt brings down the thunder, call'd aloud On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, And bade the father of his country hail ? For lo ! the tyrant prostrate on the dust, And Rome again is free...
72 ÆäÀÌÁö - Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield, Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field ? Where grows ? — where grows it not? If vain our toil...
138 ÆäÀÌÁö - How long, how short, we know not: this we know, Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission; Like sentries that must keep their destined stand, And wait th' appointed hour, till they're relieved.
104 ÆäÀÌÁö - Mind, mind alone, (bear witness, Earth and Heaven !) The living fountains in itself contains Of beauteous and sublime : here, hand in hand, Sit paramount the Graces ; here enthroned, Celestial Venus, with divinest airs, Invites the soul to never-fading joy.

µµ¼­ ¹®ÇåÁ¤º¸