The Retrospective Review, Volume 1

Voorkant
John Russell Smith, 1853

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Populaire passages

Pagina 377 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Pagina 82 - ... before you were abused with divers stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors that exposed them, even those are now offered to your view cured and perfect of their limbs, and all the rest absolute in their numbers as he conceived them...
Pagina 81 - ... ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you do not envie his friends the office of their care and paine...
Pagina 84 - Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul...
Pagina 336 - But where a book is at once both good and rare — where the individual is almost the species, and when that perishes, We know not where is that Promethean torch That can its light relumine...
Pagina 344 - Britanniae pars interior ab iis incolitur, quos natos in insula ipsa memoria proditum dicunt : maritima pars ab iis, qui praedae ac belli inferendi causa ex Belgis transierant : qui omnes fere iis nominibus civitatum appellantur, quibus orti ex civitatibus eo pervenerunt, et bello illato ibi remanserunt, atque agros colere cœperunt.
Pagina 13 - Siris: A Chain of Philosophical Reflections and Inquiries Concerning the Virtues of Tar Water and Divers Other Subjects Connected Together and Arising One From Another.
Pagina 58 - I (as it hapned) had a Pistol by me which though uncharged I presented to the Indian, who presently stept back; and told me if I would yield I should have no hurt, he said (which was not true) that they had destroyed all Hatfield, and that the woods were full of Indians, whereupon I yielded myself...
Pagina 220 - MY good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high. The hard brands shiver on the steel, The...
Pagina 213 - Knight; And naebody kens that he lies there, But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. "His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet. "Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pick out his bonny blue een: Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

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