'blissful' süzneñ İngliz teldä ädäbiyättä bulgan misalları
If you're as—as—as perfectly blissful in a matrimonial life, as I am myself, you'll have nothing to desire.
Thou too, old man, hast happier days beheld; In riches once, in children once excell'd; Extended Phrygia own'd thy ample reign, And all fair Lesbos' blissful seats contain, And all wide Hellespont's unmeasured main.
“Sith our Liege Wills of his grace that thou, or ere thy death, In the most secret council, with his lords Shouldst be confronted, so that having view'd The glories of our court, thou mayst therewith Thyself, and all who hear, invigorate With hope, that leads to blissful end; declare, What is that hope, how it doth flourish in thee, And whence thou hadst it?
“Ave, Maria, Gratia Plena,” sang: To whose sweet anthem all the blissful court, From all parts answ'ring, rang: that holier joy Brooded the deep serene.
As he pusheth the best-beloved before him—tender even in severity, the jealous one—, so do I push this blissful hour before me.
Away with thee, thou blissful hour!
Away with thee, thou blissful hour!
Contented with their lot each caste Calm days in blissful quiet passed; And, all in fitting tasks employed, Country and town deep rest enjoyed, With these wise lords around his throne The monarch justly reigned, And making every heart his own The love of all men gained.
Go thou, the sacred rite ordain To win the sons he prays to gain: Go, with thy wife thy succour lend, And give his vows a blissful end.
There Rishyaśring passed blissful days, Graced like the king with love and praise And shone in glorious light with her, Sweet Śántá, for his minister, As Brahmá's son Vaśishṭha, he Who wedded Saint Arundhatí.
But Indra, when he saw the king His blissful regions entering, With all the army of the Blest Thus cried unto the unbidden guest: “With thy best speed, Triśanku, flee: Here is no home prepared for thee.
With love his eager pulses beat For the dear wife he came to meet, And in his blissful hopes deceived, He sought his absent love and grieved.
Unworthy of his mournful fate, The mighty king, unfortunate, Lay prostrate in unseemly guise, As, banished from the blissful skies, Yayáti, in his evil day.
With blissful words, O Lord of men, Rise, radiant in thy form, as when The sun ascending darts his light From Meru's everlasting height.
There while thy wish I still obey, True to my vows with thee I'll stray, And there shall blissful hours be spent In woods with honey redolent.
Around his wife his arms he strained, Who senseless from her woe remained, And with sweet words, that bade her wake To life again, the hero spake: “I would not with thy woe, my Queen, Buy heaven and all its blissful sheen.