Wat mensen zeggen - Een review schrijven
We hebben geen reviews gevonden op de gebruikelijke plaatsen.
Overige edities - Alles weergeven
Alain anagram asked beauty Bethsaida Blackwood's Magazine called Captain Carthew character Chaucer Church crime Cromwell Crustacea dear death doubt Drayton Eastwood England English Enguerrand eyes face father feel felt France Frederick French genius girl give Graham hand hath heart Hero honour hope Innocent interest Isaura Jebel Musa kind King knew lady Lebeau Legitimist less letter Living Age look Lord Lord Lytton Louvier Madame Mallett matter Mauldon means ment mind Monsieur mother nature navvy Nelly never once Orleanist Paris passed perhaps person Pisa poet political poor Prescott Raleigh Rameau Rochebriant round Savarin seemed Shakespeare Sir Stephen smile speak Strafford suppose sure tell thing thou thought Tintoretto tion Titian told took ture turned Vane Vicomte woman words writing young youth
Pagina 205 - tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o...
Pagina 443 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Pagina 205 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from...
Pagina 207 - If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep My dreams presage some joyful news at hand. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
Pagina 392 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Pagina 204 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world...
Pagina 202 - And who, in time, knows whither we may vent The treasure of our tongue, to what strange shores This gain of our best glory shall be sent, T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores? What worlds in th' yet unformed Occident May come refined with th
Pagina 232 - While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.