Westermanns Monatshefte, Volym 27, Del 1; Volym 53G. Westermann., 1885 |
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alten Augen Badeschwamm beiden besonders Bild bloß Boot Bruder Bruseberger Danzig deſſen deutschen Dichter dieſe Drüding eben Einfluß einmal ersten Frau freilich Freund Friedrich Spielhagen Friedrich Westermann ganzen Geschichte Gesicht gewiß giebt gleich Glück groß großen Grund Gustav Richter halb Hand Hans Adam Hans Kirch Haus Heinz heißt heit Hermann Hettner Herr Herz Hettner heute Heyse höchst Höhe Ilmenthal iſt Jahre jezt jungen Kind Kirch kleinen kommen konnte Kopf Kuhstiege Kunst Kurt lange laſſen läßt Leben leicht lezten lich Liebe ließ Litteratur Luft machen macht Mädchen Mann Mathilde meisten Menschen muß müſſen Mutter Schubach Natur neue Nydamer Pferdeschwämme Ravenna recht reich Rodburg sagte saß schen Schluß sehen ſein ſich ſie ſind Spiel Stadt stand Straßen Tage Teil Thätigkeit Theodor Thermosäule thun Thür Tieffenbacher troß Ulrich unserer Vater viel voll Wärme Wasser Weise weiß weiter Welt wenig Werk wieder wirklich wohl Wort Wulfsberg zwei
Populära avsnitt
Sida 133 - em away. Old year, you must not go ; So long as you have been with us, Such joy as you have seen with us, Old year, you shall not go.
Sida 132 - And the hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain, And patter their doleful prayers; — But their prayers are all in vain, All in vain!
Sida 133 - FULL knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing : Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying. Old year, you must not die ; You came to us so readily, You lived with us so steadily, Old year, you shall not die.
Sida 133 - He was full of joke and jest, But all his merry quips are o'er. To see him die, across the waste His son and heir doth ride post-haste, But he'll be dead before.
Sida 132 - YES, the Year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared ! Death, with frosty hand and cold, Plucks the old man by the beard, Sorely, — sorely ! The leaves are falling, falling, Solemnly and slow ; Caw ! caw ! the rooks are calling, It is a sound of woe, A sound of woe ! Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll ; They are chanting solemn masses, Singing ; " Pray for this poor soul, Pray, — pray...
Sida 137 - Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Sida 133 - Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you : What is it we can do for you ? Speak out before you die. His face is growing sharp and thin. Alack! our friend is gone. Close up his eyes: tie up his chin: Step from the corpse, and let him in. That standeth there alone, And waiteth at the door. There's a new foot on the floor, my friend, And a new face at the door, my friend, A new face at the door.
Sida 137 - But hark! My pulse like a soft drum Beats my approach, tells thee I come; And slow howe'er my marches be, I shall at last sit down by thee.
Sida 137 - O what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent ! For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings, He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To his long resting-place without a tear.
Sida 136 - Saddled and bridled And gallant rade he ; Hame came his gude horse, But never cam he ! Out cam his auld mither Greeting fu' sair, And out cam his bonnie bride Rivin