The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from the Works of the Most Eminent Writers, with Many Original Pieces, Том 2Blackie & Son, 1835 |
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Страница 16
... stranger , " the chief talk there just now is about a curious thing that happened this morning . A dead man was found upon the beach , and they suspect , from the wounds on his body , that he hasn't got fair play . They are making a ...
... stranger , " the chief talk there just now is about a curious thing that happened this morning . A dead man was found upon the beach , and they suspect , from the wounds on his body , that he hasn't got fair play . They are making a ...
Страница 21
... strangers , called Glassy - howe Glen . It was the scene of many a boyish excursion , when holidays were days of fun as well as of danger ; and every nook and secluded corner of the banks , every pool and cascade of the stream , every ...
... strangers , called Glassy - howe Glen . It was the scene of many a boyish excursion , when holidays were days of fun as well as of danger ; and every nook and secluded corner of the banks , every pool and cascade of the stream , every ...
Страница 25
... highland wedding . A few words of explanation from the stranger satisfied him in re- gard to his daughter's situation , and every means they could devise were employed for her recovery . Signs of returning animation II . C THE CONTRAST .
... highland wedding . A few words of explanation from the stranger satisfied him in re- gard to his daughter's situation , and every means they could devise were employed for her recovery . Signs of returning animation II . C THE CONTRAST .
Страница 29
... strangers who now filled the apartment . After having quietly surveyed them , she said in a feeble , melan- choly tone , " It's oure late - ye can get naething now - a jail is nae new thing an ' nae frichtsome thing to me , but I'll ne ...
... strangers who now filled the apartment . After having quietly surveyed them , she said in a feeble , melan- choly tone , " It's oure late - ye can get naething now - a jail is nae new thing an ' nae frichtsome thing to me , but I'll ne ...
Страница 30
... stranger to me , but that he was right in his conjecture . " Do you no mind of me puttin ' ye on the richt road , when ye tint your gate on the moors , seekin ' Matthew Lyel ? It's seventeen year sin ' syne , come the time . An ' do ye ...
... stranger to me , but that he was right in his conjecture . " Do you no mind of me puttin ' ye on the richt road , when ye tint your gate on the moors , seekin ' Matthew Lyel ? It's seventeen year sin ' syne , come the time . An ' do ye ...
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The Republic of Letters: A Selection, in Poetry and Prose, from the Works of ... Alexander Whitelaw Приказ није доступан - 2017 |
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Angelo Angerstoff arms beautiful bosom Boufflers Boyar brother called Captain Charles Charlotte Lennox cheek Christina Claudio Colonel companion countenance cried cuckoo dark daughter dear death deck Donovan door duke Elizabeth exclaimed eyes face fancy fat friar father fear feel felt Finnan haddie frae gaze girl Glasgow hand happy head hear heard heart heaven Holy Island honour hope horse hour husband Isabel James Somers Jessie KILCHURN CASTLE knew lady Larry Last Judgment laugh light living look Lord lover Marietta marriage maun mind morning Morvalden mother never night Nugent o'er pale passed poor replied returned Robin Robin Hood round roundhead seemed silence smile soon sorrow spirit stood stranger Strelitz sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought turned Uncle Ben voice wife woman wonder word young youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 398 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice ? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest ? What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn ? And, little town, thy streets for evermore Will silent be ; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
Страница 337 - Cast thy bread upon the waters : for thou shall find it after many days.
Страница 66 - Grey-headed Shepherd, thou hast spoken well; Small difference lies between thy creed and mine : This Beast not unobserved by Nature fell ; His death was mourned by sympathy divine. The Being, that is in the clouds and air, That is in the green leaves among the groves, Maintains a deep and reverential care For the unoffending creatures whom he loves.
Страница 397 - THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape Of deities or mortals, or of both, In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
Страница 64 - The moving accident is not my trade : To freeze the blood I have no ready arts : "Tis my delight, alone in summer shade, To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.
Страница 133 - It is but lost labour that ye haste to rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread of carefulness : for so he giveth his beloved sleep.
Страница 65 - There's neither dog nor heifer, horse nor sheep, Will wet his lips within that cup of stone ; And oftentimes, when all are fast asleep, This water doth send forth a dolorous groan.
Страница 398 - O attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede Of marble men and maidens overwrought, With forest branches and the trodden weed; Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, Beauty is truth, truth beauty,— that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Страница 148 - THE warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the year On the earth, her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying.
Страница 130 - Thou art gone to the grave ! we no longer behold thee, Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side, But the wide arms of Mercy are spread to enfold thee, And sinners may hope, since the Sinless has died.