The London Magazine, 5. kötetBaldwin, Cradock, and Joy, 1822 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 100 találatból.
15. oldal
... thought , To be blest with her bosom . This minstrel interruption , while it established Phemie Irving's claim to grace and to beauty , gave me additional confidence to pursue the story But minstrel skill , and true love tale , seemed ...
... thought , To be blest with her bosom . This minstrel interruption , while it established Phemie Irving's claim to grace and to beauty , gave me additional confidence to pursue the story But minstrel skill , and true love tale , seemed ...
17. oldal
... thought that a heart so kind and true was not left in the vale , the latter thought , as maidens will , on his hand- some person , gentle manners , and merry blue eye , and speculated with a sigh on the time they might have hoped a ...
... thought that a heart so kind and true was not left in the vale , the latter thought , as maidens will , on his hand- some person , gentle manners , and merry blue eye , and speculated with a sigh on the time they might have hoped a ...
23. oldal
... thought pretty well at first , but afterwards it haunt- ed and haunted me ; and though I did not cry or take it to heart as some do , and as I think he would have done if I had died , yet I missed him all day long , and knew not till ...
... thought pretty well at first , but afterwards it haunt- ed and haunted me ; and though I did not cry or take it to heart as some do , and as I think he would have done if I had died , yet I missed him all day long , and knew not till ...
31. oldal
... thought - in hell he'll be my equal ! No matter ; reflection comes too late ; my hand , al- ready heavy with the weight of blood , can rise with murderous and fatal aim no more . What , ho ! within there ! * Enter WHEATSHEAF . Farmer ...
... thought - in hell he'll be my equal ! No matter ; reflection comes too late ; my hand , al- ready heavy with the weight of blood , can rise with murderous and fatal aim no more . What , ho ! within there ! * Enter WHEATSHEAF . Farmer ...
33. oldal
... thought he saw a living army's march ; And then he would have follow'd , and defied The sadness of his spirit in the tide Through sick world - weariness . A feeble gleam , Catching his eye's droop'd beauty , broke the dream . He saw a ...
... thought he saw a living army's march ; And then he would have follow'd , and defied The sadness of his spirit in the tide Through sick world - weariness . A feeble gleam , Catching his eye's droop'd beauty , broke the dream . He saw a ...
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Népszerű szakaszok
419. oldal - Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending...
419. oldal - Peace"— but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
418. oldal - I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
419. oldal - The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry peace! peace!
419. oldal - Peace, peace ! ' — but there is no peace : the war is actually begun ! — The next gale that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms...
90. oldal - The seasons alter : hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose : And on old Hyems' chin and icy crown, An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set.
171. oldal - ... else ; I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure and number, even so perfectly, as God made the world ; or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea presently sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways (which I will not name for the honour I bear them) so without measure mis-ordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come that I must go to Mr.
419. oldal - We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the Throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the Throne.
304. oldal - It is altogether a speculative scene of things, which has no reference whatever to the world that is.
22. oldal - ... about upon the fresh grass, with all the fine garden smells around me ; or basking in the orangery, till I could almost fancy myself ripening, too, along with the oranges and the limes in that grateful warmth ; or in watching the dace that darted to and fro in the fish-pond at the bottom of the garden, with here and there a great sulky pike hanging midway down the water in silent state, as if it mocked at their impertinent friskings.