Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
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Pàgina 419 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Pàgina 423 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby ; Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby : Never harm, Nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night, with lullaby.
Pàgina 31 - OLD King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he; He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl, And he called for his fiddlers three.
Pàgina 415 - Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?
Pàgina 676 - ... cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well-enchanting skill of music; and with a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner...
Pàgina 373 - Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go.
Pàgina 406 - The time has come,' the Walrus said, 'To talk of many things; Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax — Of cabbages — and kings — And why the sea is boiling hot — And whether pigs have wings.
Pàgina 294 - Bagdat, in order to pass the rest of the day in meditation and prayer. As I was here airing myself on 'the tops of the mountains, I fell into a profound contemplation on the vanity of human life; and passing from one thought to another, Surely, said I, man is but a shadow, and life a dream.
Pàgina 424 - Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well...