MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 25Sir George Grove, David Masson, John Morley, Mowbray Morris 1872 |
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Pagina 30
... mother's . " Well " -Mrs . Fagg looks lovingly at her greedy darling ; his holidays are so near ended that it is necessary he should have his own way in all things— " perhaps , Bob , dear , you've had as many of them perch as is ...
... mother's . " Well " -Mrs . Fagg looks lovingly at her greedy darling ; his holidays are so near ended that it is necessary he should have his own way in all things— " perhaps , Bob , dear , you've had as many of them perch as is ...
Pagina 34
... mother is a pious woman of her day , too poor to give her boy much outfit besides the hair shirt that he promises to wear every Wednesday . But Edmund is no poorer than his neigh- bours . He plunges at once into the nobler life of the ...
... mother is a pious woman of her day , too poor to give her boy much outfit besides the hair shirt that he promises to wear every Wednesday . But Edmund is no poorer than his neigh- bours . He plunges at once into the nobler life of the ...
Pagina 35
... mother floated into the room where the teacher stood among his mathema- tical diagrams . " What are these ? " she seemed to say ; and , seizing Edmund's right hand , she drew on the palm three circles interlaced , each of which bore the ...
... mother floated into the room where the teacher stood among his mathema- tical diagrams . " What are these ? " she seemed to say ; and , seizing Edmund's right hand , she drew on the palm three circles interlaced , each of which bore the ...
Pagina 45
... algebra were by no means unknown to me - though I could get " Old Mother Hubbard " to hobble , or rather , I should say , to glide most gracefully into Greek iambics - and though the " calculus " was mere sport to me Khismet . 45.
... algebra were by no means unknown to me - though I could get " Old Mother Hubbard " to hobble , or rather , I should say , to glide most gracefully into Greek iambics - and though the " calculus " was mere sport to me Khismet . 45.
Pagina 83
... mother sometimes said that his dexterous fingers were as useful as a girl's , and if he had not so much experience as Christina , he had far more patience ; so she stood by , and the cloud gradually cleared from her face as she watched ...
... mother sometimes said that his dexterous fingers were as useful as a girl's , and if he had not so much experience as Christina , he had far more patience ; so she stood by , and the cloud gradually cleared from her face as she watched ...
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.