Prose and VerseGeo. Putnam, 1849 - 401 pagina's |
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Pagina 61
... sound so gratefully to the ear from the lips of a " squire of low degree . " There is something painful and humiliating to humanity in the abjectness of mind , that too often accompanies the sordid condition of the working classes ...
... sound so gratefully to the ear from the lips of a " squire of low degree . " There is something painful and humiliating to humanity in the abjectness of mind , that too often accompanies the sordid condition of the working classes ...
Pagina 75
... sounds that I can never hear , again . Before my departure from England , I was one of the few who saw the grave close over the remains of one whom to know as a friend was to love as a relation . Never did a better soul go to a better ...
... sounds that I can never hear , again . Before my departure from England , I was one of the few who saw the grave close over the remains of one whom to know as a friend was to love as a relation . Never did a better soul go to a better ...
Pagina 104
... sound home . He's blue eyes , and not to be call'd a squint , though a little cast he's certainly got ; And his nose is still a good un , tho ' the bridge is broke , by his falling on a pewter pint pot ; He's got the most elegant wide ...
... sound home . He's blue eyes , and not to be call'd a squint , though a little cast he's certainly got ; And his nose is still a good un , tho ' the bridge is broke , by his falling on a pewter pint pot ; He's got the most elegant wide ...
Pagina 107
... Sound of his Hammering is to hear the Knocking at Death's Door . To be friends with an Undertaker is as impossible as to be the Crony of a Crocodile . He is by Trade a Hypocrite , and deals of Necessity in Mental Reservations and ...
... Sound of his Hammering is to hear the Knocking at Death's Door . To be friends with an Undertaker is as impossible as to be the Crony of a Crocodile . He is by Trade a Hypocrite , and deals of Necessity in Mental Reservations and ...
Pagina 117
... sounds like a page of prose Till turn'd into Rupertino . Now to christen the infant Kilmansegg , For days and days it was quite a plague , To hunt the list in the Lexicon : And scores were tried , like coin , by the ring , Ere names ...
... sounds like a page of prose Till turn'd into Rupertino . Now to christen the infant Kilmansegg , For days and days it was quite a plague , To hunt the list in the Lexicon : And scores were tried , like coin , by the ring , Ere names ...
Overige edities - Alles bekijken
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
amongst autograph better boys bread burning called Charles Lamb common Cornelius Mathews course Dame dance 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 lady Lamb light limb Lincolnshire literary literature living London look Lord Lord Byron mesmerism mind Miss Kilmansegg moral nature never night once Otto of Roses party perhaps persons pigs play Poet poor precious PUGSLEY Quaker remember seems Serjeant Talfourd short sick Sir Jacob Sir Walter Scott song sort soul sound spirit There's thing THOMAS HOOD tion tree Trumpet turn Twas voice walk Whigs whilst whisper whole witch write young yure
Populaire passages
Pagina 205 - 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 behavior, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour ! (The vigour of this poem is no less remarkable than its pathos.
Pagina 203 - 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 dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses...
Pagina 26 - All night I lay in agony, From weary chime to chime; With one besetting horrid hint That racked me all the time — A mighty yearning, like the first Fierce impulse unto crime — "One stern tyrannic thought, that made All other thoughts its slave! Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave — Still urging me to go and see The dead man in his grave!
Pagina 102 - Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, Who gave us nobler loves and nobler cares — The poets who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays...
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 this " Song of the Shirt !
Pagina 27 - As soon as the mid-day task was done, In secret I was there : And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare ! " Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep; Or land or sea, though he should be Ten thousand fathoms deep ! " So wills the fierce avenging sprite, Till blood for blood atones ! Ay, though he 's buried in a cave, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh — The world...
Pagina 34 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away...
Pagina 202 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; 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...
Pagina 25 - I took the dreary body up, And cast it in a stream — A sluggish water black as ink, The depth was so extreme. — My gentle boy, remember this Is nothing but a dream ! " Down went the corse with a hollow plunge, And...
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!