The essays of EliaE. Moxon, 1840 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 79 találatból.
3. oldal
... noble blood . She traced her descent , by some labyrinth of relationship , which I never thoroughly understood , much less can explain with any heraldic certainty at this time of day , to the illustrious , but unfortunate house of ...
... noble blood . She traced her descent , by some labyrinth of relationship , which I never thoroughly understood , much less can explain with any heraldic certainty at this time of day , to the illustrious , but unfortunate house of ...
6. oldal
... noble or royal Benefactress ( that should have been ours ) , whose portrait seems to smile upon their over - looked beadsman , and to adopt me for their own . Then , to take a peep in by the way at the butteries , and sculleries ...
... noble or royal Benefactress ( that should have been ours ) , whose portrait seems to smile upon their over - looked beadsman , and to adopt me for their own . Then , to take a peep in by the way at the butteries , and sculleries ...
14. oldal
... noble simplification of language ( beyond Tooke ) , resolving these supposed opposites into one clear , intelligible pronoun adjective ! —What near approaches doth he make to the primitive community , to the extent of one half of the ...
... noble simplification of language ( beyond Tooke ) , resolving these supposed opposites into one clear , intelligible pronoun adjective ! —What near approaches doth he make to the primitive community , to the extent of one half of the ...
15. oldal
... noble enemy . Reflections like the foregoing were forced upon my mind by the death of my old friend , Ralph Bigod , Esq . , who parted this life , on Wednesday evening ; dying , as he had lived , without much trouble . He boasted ...
... noble enemy . Reflections like the foregoing were forced upon my mind by the death of my old friend , Ralph Bigod , Esq . , who parted this life , on Wednesday evening ; dying , as he had lived , without much trouble . He boasted ...
16. oldal
... noble Margaret Newcastle ? -knowing at the time , and knowing that I knew also , thou most assuredly wouldst never turn over one leaf of the illustrious folio : —what but the mere spirit of contradiction , and childish love of getting ...
... noble Margaret Newcastle ? -knowing at the time , and knowing that I knew also , thou most assuredly wouldst never turn over one leaf of the illustrious folio : —what but the mere spirit of contradiction , and childish love of getting ...
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Angelo Anthonio Antipholis Bassanio beauty Benedick Bertram better brother brought called Cassio child Claudio confess count Paris cousin Cymbeline daughter dead dear death Desdemona dreams Dromio duke Ephesus eyes face fancy father fear feel Ganimed gentle gentleman give grace Hamlet hath hear heard heart Helena Hermia Hertfordshire honour husband Iago Illyria Imogen Isabel Katherine kind king knew lady Leonato lived look lord lord Capulet Lysander Lysimachus Macbeth maid manner Marina marriage married master Michael Cassio mind nature never night noble Olivia once Orlando Othello passion Pericles person Petruchio play pleasant poor Portia present prince Prospero Protheus Quakers queen remember replied Romeo Rosalind seemed seen Shylock sight sleep sort speak spirit strange sweet tell thee thing thou thought Timon tion told true truth Tybalt Valentine Viola whist wife wish words young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
55. oldal - Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light.
55. oldal - What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, as I pass, Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.
74. oldal - Not a flower, not a flower sweet, • On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O ! where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
73. oldal - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
69. oldal - O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
74. oldal - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it.
50. oldal - In the same hour came forth fingers of a man's hand, and wrote over against the candlestick upon the plaster of the wall of the king's palace: and the king saw the part of the hand that wrote.
95. oldal - twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful; She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man; she thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake; She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.
75. oldal - While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odor assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before experienced.
42. oldal - Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn, whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there — ungratefulness!