Prose and Verse, Volume 1Wiley and Putnam, 1845 |
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Pagina 1
... Lord Byron calls " the gloomy vanity of drawing from self , " that I allude to my personal experience . The Scot and lot character of the dis- pensation forbids me to think that the world in general can be particularly interested in the ...
... Lord Byron calls " the gloomy vanity of drawing from self , " that I allude to my personal experience . The Scot and lot character of the dis- pensation forbids me to think that the world in general can be particularly interested in the ...
Pagina 37
... Lord Castle- reagh would have said , on my face . The portrait , then , is gen- uine " an ill - favored thing , Sir , " as Touchstone says , “ but On a march to Berlin , with the 19th Prussian Infantry , I could never succeed in passing ...
... Lord Castle- reagh would have said , on my face . The portrait , then , is gen- uine " an ill - favored thing , Sir , " as Touchstone says , “ but On a march to Berlin , with the 19th Prussian Infantry , I could never succeed in passing ...
Pagina 42
... Lord to bless his own tiny ait , “ not forgetting the neighboring island of Great Britain ; " and the most recent example of the style I have met with , was in the Memoirs of Sir William Knighton , being an account of sea perils and ...
... Lord to bless his own tiny ait , “ not forgetting the neighboring island of Great Britain ; " and the most recent example of the style I have met with , was in the Memoirs of Sir William Knighton , being an account of sea perils and ...
Pagina 64
... Lord Byron , " to see one's self in print , " and according to the popular notion I ought to have been quite up in my stirrups , if not standing on the saddle , at thus seeing myself , for the first strange time , set up in type ...
... Lord Byron , " to see one's self in print , " and according to the popular notion I ought to have been quite up in my stirrups , if not standing on the saddle , at thus seeing myself , for the first strange time , set up in type ...
Pagina 91
... ( Lord have mercy on his hysterical olfacto- ries ! what will he do in Paradise ? I must have a pair or two of nostril plugs , or nose - goggles laid in his coffin ) —stands at the door , reading that to M'Adam , and the washerwoman's ...
... ( Lord have mercy on his hysterical olfacto- ries ! what will he do in Paradise ? I must have a pair or two of nostril plugs , or nose - goggles laid in his coffin ) —stands at the door , reading that to M'Adam , and the washerwoman's ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
American amongst autograph boys bread burning called Charles Lamb common Cornelius Mathews course Dame dead deaf dear door double dream English Eugene Aram eyes face fancy fear feel fire gentleman give gold Gold Sticks Golden Leg green hand head hear heart hope horse housis human interest labor lady Lamb letter light limb Lincolnshire literary literature living London look Lord Lord Byron mesmerism mind Miss Kilmansegg moral nature never night once Otto of Roses perhaps persons pigs Poet poor precious PUGSLEY Quaker remember seems Serjeant Talfourd short Sir Jacob Sir Walter Scott song sort soul sound spirit There's thing THOMAS HOOD tion tree Trumpet truth turn Twas voice walk Whigs whilst whisper whole witch write young yure
Populaire passages
Pagina 210 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Pagina 202 - Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Pagina 210 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread, — Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger and dirt; And still with a voice of dolorous pitch — Would that its tone could reach the rich ! — She sang the
Pagina 23 - And, long since then, of bloody men Whose deeds tradition saves; Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And hid in sudden graves ; Of horrid stabs, in groves forlorn, And murders done in caves ; And how the sprites of injured men Shriek upward from the sod...
Pagina 130 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!
Pagina 134 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted ! PART III.
Pagina 181 - ... been a beauteous dream, If it had been no more ! Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song ; With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng. But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long. Farewell, farewell, fair Ines, That vessel never bore So fair a lady on its deck, Nor danced so light before, — Alas for pleasure on the sea, And sorrow on the shore ! The smile that blest one lover's heart...
Pagina 43 - Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning. I don't think so much learning becomes a young woman. For instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning; neither would it be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments.
Pagina 24 - And now, from forth the frowning sky, From the heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice — the awful voice Of the blood-avenging sprite: 'Thou guilty man! take up thy dead, And hide it from my sight...
Pagina 205 - Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, Decently, — kindly, — Smooth, and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest, — Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast! Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving,...