The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from the Works of the Most Eminent Writers, with Many Original Pieces, Bind 4Blackie & Son, 1835 |
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Side 409
... lord Thurlow was chancellor before Henry VII.'s time , " said Fanny Herbert ; and Charles added in explanation , " Our history of England only begins then , so we don't know lord Thur- low . Sir Thomas More , you remember , Fanny ? -he ...
... lord Thurlow was chancellor before Henry VII.'s time , " said Fanny Herbert ; and Charles added in explanation , " Our history of England only begins then , so we don't know lord Thur- low . Sir Thomas More , you remember , Fanny ? -he ...
Side 413
... lord Thurlow . He looks old before his time . His temper , even his friends allow , has become rugged , bois- terous , arrogant , -almost brutal . But they know not the secret pangs that torture him , or they might bear with patience ...
... lord Thurlow . He looks old before his time . His temper , even his friends allow , has become rugged , bois- terous , arrogant , -almost brutal . But they know not the secret pangs that torture him , or they might bear with patience ...
Side 414
... lord Thurlow . He stalks through his magnificent house alone ; he writes , rases , burns , knits his brows over communications and despatches which offended him , and many things offend him , he sits up half the night plunged in ...
... lord Thurlow . He stalks through his magnificent house alone ; he writes , rases , burns , knits his brows over communications and despatches which offended him , and many things offend him , he sits up half the night plunged in ...
Side 415
... Lord Thurlow now sets himself to sleep in good earnest , and his strong will is omnipotent even here . But oyer the empire of dreams the lord high chancellor had no power , -Fancy is not a ward of chan- cery . His visions were gloomy ...
... Lord Thurlow now sets himself to sleep in good earnest , and his strong will is omnipotent even here . But oyer the empire of dreams the lord high chancellor had no power , -Fancy is not a ward of chan- cery . His visions were gloomy ...
Side 416
... lord Thurlow re- calls his dream , and Charles Fox's quotation ; and , with his old ac- curate Temple habits , takes the port - folio himself , and directs his secretary to return and bring him a volume lying on the third shelf of a ...
... lord Thurlow re- calls his dream , and Charles Fox's quotation ; and , with his old ac- curate Temple habits , takes the port - folio himself , and directs his secretary to return and bring him a volume lying on the third shelf of a ...
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The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from the Works of ... Alexander Whitelaw Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2017 |
The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from the Works of ... Alexander Whitelaw Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2017 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Antonio appeared arms Ballybeg beautiful began brother called Calton Hill Captain Cardo Charlotte Clara Clare castle countenance Cowper cried dark daughter dear death delight door dress Edinburgh eyes face fair Fanny father fear feel fire Frederick Hume gentleman girl Gorbals grave hand happy Harz hast head hear heard heart heaven Hodnet Holydean honour horse trumpet hour Juliana knew lady laugh leave light live look lord Thurlow Marli marriage Melrose Abbey mind Miss morning mother murderer never night o'er once Pisa poor returned Romelli rose round scene Scotland seemed seen silent sister smile soon soul spirit stood stranger sweet tears tell thee thing THOMAS AIRD thou thought took town turned Ursenstein village voice Waldeck walked wife wild William Cowper Wincanton window wish wonder words young youth
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Side 93 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied—- We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came, dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Side 94 - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Side 201 - And still to love, though prest with ill, In wintry age to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary! But ah! by constant heed I know How oft the sadness that I show Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe, My Mary! And should my future lot be cast With much resemblance of the past, Thy worn-out heart will break at last — My Mary!
Side 94 - To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core ; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel ; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease ; For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Side 94 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Side 66 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Side 66 - Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine ; A Being breathing thoughtful breath, A Traveller between life and death...
Side 200 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more; My Mary!
Side 287 - IT was a' for our rightfu' King, We left fair Scotland's strand ; It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, My dear ; We e'er saw Irish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a...
Side 287 - Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending, With distant echo from the fold and lea, And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. Yet, once again farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp May idly cavil at an idle lay.