Remains, Historical and Literary, Connected with the Palatine Counties of Lancaster and Chester

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Chetham Society., 1894
 

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Página 154 - Then to his last informant he referred, And begged to know if true what he had heard. "Did you, sir, throw up a black crow?
Página 159 - em would do. The operator, much surprised to find So odd a case, thought, sure the man is blind! " What sort of eyes can you have got ? " said he. " Why, very good ones, friend, as you may see.
Página 37 - Some say, compar'd to Bononcini, That Mynheer Handel's but a ninny ; Others aver that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle.' Strange all this difference should be Twixt Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
Página 159 - So, at first, he chose To place a youngish pair upon his nose ; And book produced, to see how they would fit : Asked how he liked 'em ? — " Like 'em — not a bit." — " Then sir, I fancy, if you please to try, These in my hand will better suit your eye" — " No, but they don't" — " Well, come, sir, if you please.
Página 6 - Pleasure to look at, twas Music to hear. But now she is absent, I walk by its Side, And still, as it murmurs, do nothing but chide: 'Must you be so cheerful, while I go in pain? Peace there with your bubbling, and hear me complain.
Página 7 - But now she is absent, though still they sing on, The woods are but lonely, the melody's gone : Her voice in the concert, as now I have found, Gave every thing else its agreeable sound.
Página 259 - So that one may with the same Assurance affirm, that the Play-House, not only when some very profane Play is on the Stage, but in its daily common Entertainments, is as certainly the House of the Devil, as the Church is the House of God.
Página 8 - Does aught of its Sweetness the Blossom beguile? That Meadow, those Daisies, why do they not smile? Ah, Rivals ! I see what it was that you drest And made your selves fine for, — a Place in her Breast : You put on your Colours to pleasure her Eye, To be pluckt by her Hand, on her Bosom to die.
Página 117 - I AM content, I do not care, Wag as it will the world for me; When fuss and fret was all my fare, It got no ground as I could see : So when away my caring went, I counted cost, and was content. With more of thanks and less of thought, I strive to make my matters meet ; To seek what ancient sages sought, Physic and food in sour and sweet: To take what passes in good part, And keep the hiccups from the heart. With...
Página 152 - till the tale be told, We '11 give a hint, for once, how to apply The meaning first — and hang the tale thereby.— People, full oft, are put into a pother, For want of understanding one another: And strange, amusing stories creep about, That come to nothing, if you trace them out; Lies of the day...

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