Die Thierbilder der Sprache

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A. Marcus, 1878 - Metaphor

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Page 57 - Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep?
Page 238 - Du führst die Reihe der Lebendigen Vor mir vorbei, und lehrst mich meine Brüder Im stillen Busch, in Luft und Wasser kennen.
Page 116 - This fortress, built by nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war ; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands ; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Page 116 - This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea...
Page 115 - O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Page 187 - Heav'n, He, ruin'd, sink! Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, That fate is thine — no distant date; Stern Ruin's ploughshare drives elate Full on thy bloom, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight Shall be thy doom!
Page 264 - Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men ; As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept All by the name of dogs : the valued file...
Page 191 - O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair and smell'st so sweet That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst ne'er been born ! Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed ? Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly book, Made to write
Page 237 - Erhabner Geist, du gabst mir, gabst mir alles, Warum ich bat. Du hast mir nicht umsonst Dein Angesicht im Feuer zugewendet. Gabst mir die herrliche Natur zum Königreich, Kraft, sie zu fühlen, zu genießen.
Page 176 - Ich gäb was drum, wenn ich nur wüßt, Wer heut der Herr gewesen ist! Er sah gewiß recht wacker aus, Und ist aus einem edlen Haus; Das konnt ich ihm an der Stirne lesen — Er wär auch sonst nicht so keck gewesen.

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