De werken van E. J. Potgieter, proza, poëzy, kritiek, Volume 15H. D. Tjeenk Willink, 1886 - Denmark |
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aard Amsterdam beide blijken blik boekske dagen dezer dichter dien dier Domine eener eenige eeuw eischen enkel Fulda gaarne gansche gaven gebragt gedachte geest gelooven gelukkig gemoed genoeg genot geslacht geven geweest goed Göthe Grafheuvelen greep groote hand harer harte hebt heen heer heid Henri Martin Henry Fielding Hofdijk hollandsche Hunebedden hunne ieder iets Jan Steen Kelten Krit kunst kunstenaar Kunstkronijk laatste letterkunde leven licht liefde lippen louter maken meê meester menige mensch misschien moed mogen mogt neen Nimf offerande onderwerp Onno Zwier onze onzent onzer oogenblik opstel oude poëzij poolcirkel regt rust schaak schaakspel schare scheen schetsen schier schijnt schilder schoone schrijver Sissa slechts spel stoffe studie tusschen uwer vader velerlei verre verscheiden volk vreemde vrouw waardig waarin waarmede waarom Walter Scott want weêr weet weinig wereld wien wier William Hogarth wilt woord woud zelfs zelven zien zijner zouden zoudt zullen
Popular passages
Page 40 - Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Find us farther than today.
Page 396 - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Page 40 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!" For the soul is dead that slumbers. And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Page 51 - Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles Through the green lanes of the country, Where the tangled barberry-bushes Hang their tufts of crimson berries Over stone walls gray with mosses, Pause by some neglected graveyard, For a while to muse, and ponder On a half-effaced inscription, Written with little skill of song-craft, Homely phrases, but each letter Full of hope and yet of heart-break, Full of all the tender pathos Of the Here and the Hereafter...
Page 48 - Immer strebe zum Ganzen, und kannst du selber kein Ganzes Werden, als dienendes Glied schließ an ein Ganzes dich an.
Page 382 - Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day : Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Page 253 - Qu'on ne peut voir aller plus loin l'ambition d'un homme mort ; et ce que je trouve admirable, c'est qu'un homme qui s'est passé durant sa vie d'une assez simple demeure, en veuille avoir une si magnifique pour quand il n'en a plus que faire.
Page 50 - Ye who love a nation's legends, Love the ballads of a people. That like voices from afar off Call to us to pause and listen. Speak in tones so plain and childlike, Scarcely can the ear distinguish Whether they are sung or spoken...
Page 51 - Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, Who have faith in God and Nature, Who believe that in all ages Every human heart is human, That in even savage bosoms There are longings, yearnings, strivings For the good they comprehend not, That the feeble hands and helpless, Groping blindly in the darkness, Touch God's right hand in that darkness And are lifted up and strengthened; — Listen to this simple story, To this Song of Hiawatha!
Page 328 - Der Menschheit Würde ist in eure Hand gegeben, Bewahret sie! Sie sinkt mit euch, mit euch wird sie sich heben!