The essays of EliaE. Moxon, 1840 |
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Página 7
... late studies and watchings at the midnight oil ) D. is the most absent of men . He made a call the other morning at our friend M.'s in Bed- ford - square ; and , finding nobody at home , or co - sphered with Plato - or , with Harrington ...
... late studies and watchings at the midnight oil ) D. is the most absent of men . He made a call the other morning at our friend M.'s in Bed- ford - square ; and , finding nobody at home , or co - sphered with Plato - or , with Harrington ...
Página 8
... late hour of my life , I trace impres- sions left by the recollection of those friendless holidays . The long warm days of summer never return but they bring with them a gloom from the haunting memory of those whole - day- leaves , when ...
... late hour of my life , I trace impres- sions left by the recollection of those friendless holidays . The long warm days of summer never return but they bring with them a gloom from the haunting memory of those whole - day- leaves , when ...
Página 11
... late " watchet weeds " carefully effaced , he was exposed in a jacket resembling those which London lamplighters formerly delighted in , with a cap of the same . The effect of this divestiture was such as the ingenious devisers of it ...
... late " watchet weeds " carefully effaced , he was exposed in a jacket resembling those which London lamplighters formerly delighted in , with a cap of the same . The effect of this divestiture was such as the ingenious devisers of it ...
Página 14
... late incomparable Brinsley -what a family likeness in all four ! What a careless , even deportment hath your borrower ! what rosy gills ! what a beautiful reliance on Providence doth he manifest , - What taking no more thought than ...
... late incomparable Brinsley -what a family likeness in all four ! What a careless , even deportment hath your borrower ! what rosy gills ! what a beautiful reliance on Providence doth he manifest , - What taking no more thought than ...
Página 21
... late to be inserted among his ingenious notes upon that author . Quadrille , she has often told me , was her first love ; but whist had engaged her maturer esteem . The former , she said , was showy and specious , and likely to allure ...
... late to be inserted among his ingenious notes upon that author . Quadrille , she has often told me , was her first love ; but whist had engaged her maturer esteem . The former , she said , was showy and specious , and likely to allure ...
Palavras e frases frequentes
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
Passagens conhecidas
Página 55 - 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.
Página 55 - 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.
Página 74 - 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.
Página 73 - 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.
Página 69 - 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.
Página 74 - 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.
Página 50 - 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.
Página 95 - 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.
Página 75 - 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.
Página 42 - 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!