Tilbury Nogo; or, Passages in the life of an unsuccessful man, by the author of 'Digby Grand' 2 vols

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Página 188 - No, Sir, claret is the liquor for boys ; port for men ; but he who aspires to be a hero (smiling) must drink brandy.
Página 169 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran.
Página 312 - Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon, and scallop-shell; Farewell ! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain!
Página 207 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
Página 162 - And still his name sounds stirring Unto the men of Rome As the trumpet-blast that cries to them To charge the Volscian home, And wives still pray to Juno For boys with hearts as bold As his who kept the bridge so well In the brave days of old.
Página 171 - And struggling fiercely, but in vain, In the full foam of wrath and dread To me the desert-born was led : They bound me on, that menial throng...
Página 126 - Man, being reasonable, must get drunk ; The best of life is but intoxication : Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation ; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion : But to return, — Get very drunk ; and when You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
Página 350 - Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play ; For some must watch, while some must sleep : Thus runs the world away.
Página 38 - England," with something about a child and a donkey, which a second fainting fit prevented my quite catching the meaning of. Hunting was out of the question for the rest of the season ; and after a fortnight of bed at Melton I betook myself to London, where it was a good six weeks before I was sufficiently restored even to be questioned about my accident. However, it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good, and Segundo had the horses to ride till the end of the season, which he seems to have done...
Página 231 - A hundred voices joined the shout; With hark and whoop and wild halloo. No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe; Close in her covert...

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