The Universal Anthology: A Collection of the Best Literature, Ancient, Mediaeval and Modern, with Biographical and Explanatory Notes, Том 17Richard Garnett, Léon Vallée, Alois Brandl Clarke Company, limited, 1899 |
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Страница 53
... look upon as in some measure discharged ; while those I conceal are still keeping the Account open between me and my Conscience . To me the Fatigue of being upon a continual Guard to hide them is more than the Reputation of being ...
... look upon as in some measure discharged ; while those I conceal are still keeping the Account open between me and my Conscience . To me the Fatigue of being upon a continual Guard to hide them is more than the Reputation of being ...
Страница 57
... look into my present Self , and afterwards cast my Eye round all my Hopes , I don't see any one Pursuit of them that should so reasonably rouse me out of a Nod in my Great Chair , as a call to those agreeable Parties I have sometimes ...
... look into my present Self , and afterwards cast my Eye round all my Hopes , I don't see any one Pursuit of them that should so reasonably rouse me out of a Nod in my Great Chair , as a call to those agreeable Parties I have sometimes ...
Страница 59
... look upon my Follies as the best part of my Fortune , and am more concerned to be a good Husband of Them , than of That ; nor do I believe I shall ever be rhymed out of them . And , if I don't mistake , I am sup- ported in my way of ...
... look upon my Follies as the best part of my Fortune , and am more concerned to be a good Husband of Them , than of That ; nor do I believe I shall ever be rhymed out of them . And , if I don't mistake , I am sup- ported in my way of ...
Страница 60
... look at the great Babel that lay buried in a world of trees beneath him ; and as his quick eye ranged over the magnificent prospect , lit up by that gorgeous sunset , he could not help thinking of Tom King's last words . " Poor fellow ...
... look at the great Babel that lay buried in a world of trees beneath him ; and as his quick eye ranged over the magnificent prospect , lit up by that gorgeous sunset , he could not help thinking of Tom King's last words . " Poor fellow ...
Страница 62
... looks - his furious steed - the impetus with which he pressed forward , bore down all before him . The horsemen gave way , and only served to swell the list of his pursuers . " We have him now ! we have him now ! " cried Paterson ...
... looks - his furious steed - the impetus with which he pressed forward , bore down all before him . The horsemen gave way , and only served to swell the list of his pursuers . " We have him now ! we have him now ! " cried Paterson ...
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Adams answer Aurangzeb beauty better black crows blessing born brother called captain character Colonel COUNTESS OF BUTE creature cried Cunegund Davers dear dearest love desire Dick Dick Turpin door Dupleix earth endeavored English eyes face father fear gentleman George George Warrington give Gogol hand happy hear heard heart highwayman Hindu honor hope horse hour human Indian insulted Jackey Jewkes Joseph Andrews king lady ladyship liberty live look Lord Lord Bute madam Marathas MARK AKENSIDE master means mind Montesquieu nature never night o'er Pamela Pangloss passed passion philosopher pity pleasure poor prince qu'il reason replied russe sentiment soul speak Spirit of Laws sword Tarass Boulba taxes tell thee things THOMAS GRAY thou art thought tion took truth Turpin vex'd virtue voice wench whole wish woman word wretched young
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Страница 244 - E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate — Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.
Страница 241 - THE curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Страница 242 - How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave Await alike th' inevitable hour : — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Страница 268 - Fill high the sparkling bowl, The rich repast prepare ; Reft of a crown, he yet may share the feast : Close by the regal chair Fell Thirst and Famine scowl A baleful smile upon their baffled guest. Heard ye the din of battle bray, Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? Long years of havoc urge their destined course, And thro' the kindred squadrons mow their way.
Страница 54 - I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. Of all the days that's in the week I dearly love but one day — And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday...
Страница 83 - A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Страница 242 - Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest. Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Страница 89 - Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who according to His abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead...
Страница 206 - And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.
Страница 270 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.