Advice to Julia: A Letter in RhymeJohn Murray, 1820 - 236 oldal |
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Almack's battu Beaus beauty birds blazoned blush breeze bright Cachemire capricious chance charm Coblentz Cossacks Cravat crowds cui bono curricle dance dare darts dear destined dress ease Elysium escape Ev'n eyes fair fame fancy fashion fate favourite Martingale feel folks fresh frost frown gentle graces grave half heard heart hint horse hour hurry Hymen jaded Julia Juvenal ladies late Leicestershire limbs line 14 lingering London looks lover Margate methinks Midst mingled money's gone motion Muse muslin ne'er never night Note nymphs o'er once Palais-Royal Park Perchance Poor Charles proud punters Quadrillers rhyme rich round Scarce scorn scud season seldom self-same Serpentine smart smiles sound sport stake strange street supper sure swears taste tell tempted thaw there's tis true town trice twas Twixt undone Unless warm weather wherefore Whig winter wives women yawn
Népszerű szakaszok
11. oldal - All on that magic LIST depends ; Fame, fortune, fashion, lovers, friends : 'Tis that which gratifies or vexes All ranks, all ages, and both sexes. If once to Almack's you belong, Like monarchs, you can do no wrong; But banished thence on Wednesday night, % By Jove, you can do nothing right.
59. oldal - While folks less confident than they Stare, in mute wonder, — and give way. Charles was a master, a professor Of this great art — a first-rate dresser Armed at all points, from head to foot, From rim of hat to tip of boot. Above so loose, below so braced, In chest exuberant, and in waist Just like an hour-glass or a wasp, So tightened, he could scarcely gasp.
236. oldal - Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
131. oldal - Poverty's worst scourge, contempt. Unmark'd the poor man seeks his den, Unheeded issues forth again. Wherefore appears he none inquires, Nor why, nor whither he retires ; All that his pride would fain conceal, All that shame blushes to reveal, The petty shifts, the grovelling cares, To which the sons of want are heirs. Those...
64. oldal - Some crease indelible, and look Just like a dunce's dog's-eared book, How would you parry the disgrace ? In what assembly show your face ? . How brook your rival's scornful glance, Or partner's titter in the dance ? How in the morning dare to meet The quizzers of the park or street ? Your occupation 's gone, — in vain Hope to dine out, or flirt again. The LADIES from their lists will put you, And even /, my friend, must cut you ! ' This is a good sample of Luttrell's lighter manner.
129. oldal - LONDON ! thou comprehensive word, What joy thy streets and squares afford ! And think not thy admirer rallies If he should add thy lanes and alleys. Thy INDEPENDENCE let me share Though clogged with smoke and foggy air ; Though I'm obliged my doors to make fast ; Though I can get no cream for breakfast ; Though knaves, within thee, cheat and plunder, And fires can scarcely be kept under...
97. oldal - Steal from th' approving world, and seek A long probationary week Of close retirement, as profound As if they both were under ground ? Twelve hours of every four-and-twenty Left to themselves, methinks, were plenty. Then why to villas hurry down, When these, fond pair, are yours in town ? Be counselled — Stir not, near or far, But stay, I charge you, where you are. The dream of passion soon or late Is broken don't anticipate. Haste not to lose your hopes in fears, Stark mad for moments, dull for...
59. oldal - Trowsers so called from those barbarians Nursed in the Steppes — the Crim-Tartarians — Who, when they scour a country, under Those ample folds conceal their plunder. How strange their destiny has been ! Promoted, since the year fifteen, In honour of these fierce allies, To grace our British legs and thighs! Fashion's a tide which nothing stems; So the Don mingles with the Thames\ But, ere his darts were aimed to kill, One charm, he knew, was wanting still. "Weak...
206. oldal - ... rule the State ; Yet who in mere routine would waste » One grain of knowledge, sense, or taste ? Who, through a tedious session, bear To slumber in the tainted air Of crowded benches, glad to make His dinner on a tough beef-steak ; Or (summoned by a Treasury-note) Night after night to sit and' rote, A mere machine, with no dominion Over his seat or his opinion ; Only to frank an ounce, and see On all his letters...
62. oldal - Or (while an hour has passed unheeded " And unregretted) have you toiled " Till a week's laundry has been spoiled, " Ere round your neck, in every fold " Exact, the muslin has been rolled, " And, dexterously in front confined...