Eliza Cook's journal, Том 101854 |
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Страница 1
... thought of it . If I can do all this without being prosy , so much the better for my readers and - myself ; and if without being prolix , so much the better also ; but I must have leave to tell my story in my own way , and gallop ...
... thought of it . If I can do all this without being prosy , so much the better for my readers and - myself ; and if without being prolix , so much the better also ; but I must have leave to tell my story in my own way , and gallop ...
Страница 4
... thoughts of " depositing his money at the Fist and Pummel ; ' a dirty - looking midshipman ; and a sprinkling of gents ... thought himself the man of the company ; each talked of what he could do or had done ; and that all applauded the ...
... thoughts of " depositing his money at the Fist and Pummel ; ' a dirty - looking midshipman ; and a sprinkling of gents ... thought himself the man of the company ; each talked of what he could do or had done ; and that all applauded the ...
Страница 18
... thought struck the reverend gentleman , that Mr. Manby had lately increased his number of horses ; that he had built a new wing to his house ; that his draw- ing - rooms had been refurnished in superb style ; and the simultaneous ...
... thought struck the reverend gentleman , that Mr. Manby had lately increased his number of horses ; that he had built a new wing to his house ; that his draw- ing - rooms had been refurnished in superb style ; and the simultaneous ...
Страница 20
... thought it strange , but paid the amount and went on board . We were half - way to Bonn when the collector came round to examine the tickets and tear off the counterfoil . A young man with whom I had been talking produced a small ...
... thought it strange , but paid the amount and went on board . We were half - way to Bonn when the collector came round to examine the tickets and tear off the counterfoil . A young man with whom I had been talking produced a small ...
Страница 23
... thought any- thing about it ; and it never stood in the way of any man's promotion . Dean Swift , notwithstanding his foul grossness , got made a dean ; and he would have been made a bishop , but that his scurrility had excited the ...
... thought any- thing about it ; and it never stood in the way of any man's promotion . Dean Swift , notwithstanding his foul grossness , got made a dean ; and he would have been made a bishop , but that his scurrility had excited the ...
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Abbotsford amongst answer appearance asked Battyr Bazouge beautiful better Birmingham called Chamonix character Charles Harpur child cholera church classes Courmayeur dark dear death door Drury Lane Eildon Hills England English eyes face father feel Fleet Street Friedli friends gentleman girl give hand happy head heard heart hills honour hour John Ketch Josephine labour lady Latitat live London look Lord marriage matter means Melrose Abbey ment mind Miss morning mother never night Niort once passed perhaps persons poor present quadrille replied Robert Owen Roger round scarcely Scotland seemed side Sir Walter Scott snow society soon spirit Street talk tell things thou thought tion took town turned village voice walk wife window woman women words young
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Страница 177 - What is that, Mother ? The swan, my love ! He is floating down, from his native grove ; No loved one, now, no nestling, nigh, He is floating down, by himself, to die; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song, is the last, he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swanlike and sweet, it may waft thee home!
Страница 257 - INTO the sunshine, Full of the light, Leaping and flashing From morn till night ; Into the moonlight, Whiter than snow, Waving so flower-like When the winds blow ; Into the starlight Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight, Happy by day ; Ever in...
Страница 163 - The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests : but the son of man hath not where to lay his head.
Страница 295 - The moon on the east oriel shone, Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined ; Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand, "Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, In many a freakish knot, had twined ; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Страница 49 - He stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men's bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew. Then King Admetus, one who had Pure taste by right divine...
Страница 177 - The swan, my love !He is floating down from his native grove ; No loved one now, no nestling nigh, He is floating down, by himself to die : Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.
Страница 151 - George's banner, broad and gay, Now faded, as the fading ray Less bright, and less, was flung; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the donjon tower, So heavily it hung.
Страница 177 - What is that mother ? The eagle, boy ! Proudly careering his course of joy, Firm, on his own mountain vigour relying, Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying ; His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on. Boy, may the eagle's flight ever be thine, Onward and upward, and true to the line.
Страница 11 - But the greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or misplacing of the last or furthest end of knowledge. For men have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to entertain their minds with variety and delight ; sometimes for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction; and most times for lucre and profession...
Страница 177 - What is that, mother ? The dove, my son. — And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one's quick return. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove, — In friendship as faithful, as constant' in love. What is that, mother...