MacMillan's Magazine, Volume 25Sir George Grove, David Masson, John Morley, Mowbray Morris 1872 |
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Pagina 18
... once what had happened . In an instant she snatched the note from Miss Coppock . It was from Lord Charles Seton - a note of silly , boyish nonsense , but still of warmer nonsense than she would have liked Maurice to see addressed to her ...
... once what had happened . In an instant she snatched the note from Miss Coppock . It was from Lord Charles Seton - a note of silly , boyish nonsense , but still of warmer nonsense than she would have liked Maurice to see addressed to her ...
Pagina 20
... once , and always , that I refuse to listen to anything you have to say about Mrs. Downes , and I don't believe a word of this - this trumped - up story . " He left her so suddenly that she could not stop him . CHAPTER LXIV . A FRIEND ...
... once , and always , that I refuse to listen to anything you have to say about Mrs. Downes , and I don't believe a word of this - this trumped - up story . " He left her so suddenly that she could not stop him . CHAPTER LXIV . A FRIEND ...
Pagina 21
... once the purpose for which she had interrupted her journey ; she went off into a rambling narrative of Patty's conduct with Lord Charles Seton , and the deceit she had practised on Mr. Downes . Nuna begged her to keep silence . 66 I can ...
... once the purpose for which she had interrupted her journey ; she went off into a rambling narrative of Patty's conduct with Lord Charles Seton , and the deceit she had practised on Mr. Downes . Nuna begged her to keep silence . 66 I can ...
Pagina 23
... once ; I thought it would be the best way to stop such boyish folly ; but , Maurice , I meant to tell you this myself ; surely there was no need for me to confess to Miss Coppock when she took upon herself to accuse me of all sorts of ...
... once ; I thought it would be the best way to stop such boyish folly ; but , Maurice , I meant to tell you this myself ; surely there was no need for me to confess to Miss Coppock when she took upon herself to accuse me of all sorts of ...
Pagina 31
... ; the glow is on the summit of the mountain - the troubled mists , the rugged cliffs , come first - but , these once past - there is the soft warm light above ! IN the good days when George the Third was king Patty . 31 :
... ; the glow is on the summit of the mountain - the troubled mists , the rugged cliffs , come first - but , these once past - there is the soft warm light above ! IN the good days when George the Third was king Patty . 31 :
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.