MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 25Sir George Grove, David Masson, John Morley, Mowbray Morris 1872 |
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Pagina 5
... eyes , or I'll be hanged if I could have swallowed the story . " 66 I guess you'll have to swallow bigger things ... eye of the President as he watched the effect of his preparations on his half- famished guests . Let me draw a decent ...
... eyes , or I'll be hanged if I could have swallowed the story . " 66 I guess you'll have to swallow bigger things ... eye of the President as he watched the effect of his preparations on his half- famished guests . Let me draw a decent ...
Pagina 10
... eyes followed his wife with a painful look of uncertainty- " as she cares yet for Mr. Will ? " Mrs. Fagg had begun on a fresh slice of bread , but it fell off the fork as her husband spoke . Her face was very red as she picked it up ...
... eyes followed his wife with a painful look of uncertainty- " as she cares yet for Mr. Will ? " Mrs. Fagg had begun on a fresh slice of bread , but it fell off the fork as her husband spoke . Her face was very red as she picked it up ...
Pagina 14
... eyes , exhausted ; he did not see how eagerly Nuna opened the letter , as if she could not read it quickly enough . " DEAR MR . WESTROPP , " I have intended to write to you more than once , but the extreme ra- pidity with which we have ...
... eyes , exhausted ; he did not see how eagerly Nuna opened the letter , as if she could not read it quickly enough . " DEAR MR . WESTROPP , " I have intended to write to you more than once , but the extreme ra- pidity with which we have ...
Pagina 17
... eyes fixed more and more wist- fully on the knapsack hanging against the bare deal walls of his room . There were writing materials in it . How easy it would be to write and summon his wife . Before morning came the power of writing was ...
... eyes fixed more and more wist- fully on the knapsack hanging against the bare deal walls of his room . There were writing materials in it . How easy it would be to write and summon his wife . Before morning came the power of writing was ...
Pagina 18
... eyes . She dared not open the window ; she feared to attract notice ; but she longed intensely to know what Patience was saying to her husband . Miss Coppock had kept much out of sight of late , and Patty had grown to be less on her ...
... eyes . She dared not open the window ; she feared to attract notice ; but she longed intensely to know what Patience was saying to her husband . Miss Coppock had kept much out of sight of late , and Patty had grown to be less on her ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 57 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Volledige weergave - 1888 |
MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 20 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Volledige weergave - 1869 |
MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 73 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Volledige weergave - 1896 |
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
army asked barrister beautiful Bell Bernard boys called Captain Cleasby Christina Church course dear Ellesmere England English English bar eyes face Fagg feel France French friends girl give Gothenburg Government hand happy head hope horses husband Inns of Court Italy knew Lady Lady Bassett lawyers less Lieutenant listen look Lord Elgin married matter ment Milverton mind Miss Cleasby Miss Coppock mother nation Nettlebed never North Nuna Nuna's once Oswestry Oxford Paris Patty pauperism perhaps person phaeton political poor present pretty profession Queen Titania question reformers rix-dollars ron ron Rosen round seemed smile speak spirit stood suppose sure talk tell thing thought tion Tita Titania told town Treaty of Tientsin turned Twickenham Uhlan voice Warde whole wish woman words young
Populaire passages
Pagina 271 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear ; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter ; What's to come is still unsure : In delay there lies no plenty ; Then come kiss me...
Pagina 337 - Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves. And the mome raths outgrabe.
Pagina 269 - Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Pagina 338 - Long time the manxome foe he sought — So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack ! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
Pagina 176 - Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze, Upon her so to gaze, Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, To which the woods did answer, and your eccho ring? But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, The inward beauty of her lively spright...
Pagina 176 - There dwells sweet love and constant chastity, Unspotted faith and comely womanhood, Regard of honour and mild modesty; There virtue reigns as queen in royal throne, And giveth laws alone, The which the base affections do obey, And yield their services unto her will; Ne thought of thing uncomely ever may Thereto approach to tempt her mind to ill.
Pagina 390 - A l'âge où l'on est libertin, Pour boire un toast en un festin, Un jour je soulevai mon verre. En face de moi vint s'asseoir Un convive vêtu de noir, Qui me ressemblait comme un frère. Il secouait sous son manteau Un haillon de pourpre en lambeau, Sur sa tête un myrte stérile, Son bras maigre cherchait le mien.
Pagina 152 - sa background of god to each hardworking feature, Every word that he speaks has been fierily furnaced In the blast of a life that has struggled in earnest...
Pagina 390 - Pensif, avec un doux sourire. Comme j'allais avoir quinze ans, Je marchais un jour, à pas lents, Dans un bois, sur une bruyère. Au pied d'un arbre vint s'asseoir Un jeune homme vêtu de noir, Qui me ressemblait comme un frère. Je lui demandai mon chemin; II tenait un luth d'une main, De l'autre un bouquet d'églantine. Il me fit un salut d'ami, Et, se détournant à demi, Me montra du doigt la colline.
Pagina 269 - No, sir ; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.