Letters from Bayreuth: Descriptive and Critical of Wagner's Der Ring Des Nibelungen; with an Appendix

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Novello, Ewer, 1877 - 154 síður
 

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Síða 139 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Síða 91 - ... men sat by the fires in the evening, a certain man came into the hall unknown of aspect to all men ; and suchlike array he had, that over him was a spotted cloak, and he was bare-foot, and had...
Síða 149 - Therefore doth heaven divide The state of man in divers functions, Setting endeavour in continual motion ; To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, Obedience : for so work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
Síða 83 - ... standing corn ; and, for all that, greater was his strength than his growth : well could he wield sword, and cast forth spear, shoot shaft, and hold shield, bend bow, back horse, and do all the goodly deeds that he learned in his youth's days. Wise he was to know' things yet undone; and the voice of all fowls he knew, wherefore few things fell on him unawares. Of many words he was, and so fair of speech withal, that whensoever he made it his business to speak, he never left speaking before that...
Síða 94 - Heed it not ! for never again seest thou me glad in thine hall, never drinking, never at the chessplay, never speaking the words of kindness, never overlaying the fair cloths with gold, never giving thee good counsel ; — ah, my sorrow of heart that I might not get Sigurd to me!" Then she sat up and smote her needlework, and rent it asunder, and bade set open her bower doors, that far away might the...
Síða 21 - Valhall's bright door With rings bedight: And if my fellowship Followeth after, In no wretched wise Then shall we wend. "For him shall follow My five bondmaids, My eight bondsmen, No borel folk: Yea, and my fosterer, And my father's dower That Budli of old days Gave to his dear child. "Much have I spoken, More would I speak, If the sword would give me Space for speech; But my words are waning, My wounds are swelling — Naught but truth have I told — — And now make I ending.
Síða 94 - This is the sorest sorrow to me," she said, " that the bitter sword is not reddened in thy blood." " Have no fear thereof ! " says he, " no long while to wait or the bitter sword stand deep in my heart ; and no worse needest thou to pray for thyself, for thou wilt not live when I am dead ; the days of our two lives shall be few enough from henceforth.
Síða 139 - ... s like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured harebell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweetened not thy breath : the ruddock would With charitable bill...
Síða 143 - Some, when they die, die all ; their mouldering clay Is but an emblem of their memories ; The space quite closes up through which they pass'd. That I have lived, I leave a mark behind Shall pluck the shining age from vulgar time, And give it whole to late posterity.
Síða 91 - Then he took up the word, and said — "Whoso draweth this sword from this stock, shall have the same as a gift from me, and shall find in good sooth that never bare he better sword in hand than is this.

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