Self, by the author of 'Cecil'. by mrs. Gore

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75. oldal - Pictures, like these, dear madam, to design, Asks no firm hand, and no unerring line ; Some...
189. oldal - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
67. oldal - Lear. Does any here know me ? This is not Lear : Does Lear walk thus ? speak thus ? Where are his eyes ? Either his notion weakens, or his discernings Are lethargied, — Ha ! waking ? 'tis not so, Who is it that can tell me who I am ? Fool.
59. oldal - A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'da lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that — Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that; For a* that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that ; The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a
86. oldal - My apprehensions come in crowds; I dread the rustling of the grass ; The very shadows of the clouds Have power to shake me as they pass...
22. oldal - What years, i' faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. DUKE. Too old, by heaven : let still the woman take An elder than herself : so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart...

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