Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance, General Literature, & Art, Volumen6William Harrison Ainsworth Chapman and Hall, 1844 |
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Página 11
... heard Proddy's manœuvre ; but at length , fancying all still , he tried to get out , and to his dismay , found the means of egress barred against him . While in a state of great anxiety at his situation , he was somewhat relieved by the ...
... heard Proddy's manœuvre ; but at length , fancying all still , he tried to get out , and to his dismay , found the means of egress barred against him . While in a state of great anxiety at his situation , he was somewhat relieved by the ...
Página 12
... heard from him , and as this despatch was evidently traced by the hand of a comrade , it was feared , though he made no mention of it , that he had been wounded . " Well , I hold to my resolution , " said Mrs. Tipping . " If he has lost ...
... heard from him , and as this despatch was evidently traced by the hand of a comrade , it was feared , though he made no mention of it , that he had been wounded . " Well , I hold to my resolution , " said Mrs. Tipping . " If he has lost ...
Página 13
... heard of the serjeant , nor had even Proddy made his appearance . Mrs. Plumpton seemed very disconsolate , sighed dismally , and often applied her apron to her eyes ; and though Mrs. Tipping endeavoured to look in- different and ...
... heard of the serjeant , nor had even Proddy made his appearance . Mrs. Plumpton seemed very disconsolate , sighed dismally , and often applied her apron to her eyes ; and though Mrs. Tipping endeavoured to look in- different and ...
Página 14
... heard in the passage , approaching each instant towards the door . " Sacre Dieu ! vat's dat ? " cried Bimbelot . " It's the serjeant , " cried Mrs. Plumpton , starting up . " I'm sure it's him . " As she spoke , the door opened , and ...
... heard in the passage , approaching each instant towards the door . " Sacre Dieu ! vat's dat ? " cried Bimbelot . " It's the serjeant , " cried Mrs. Plumpton , starting up . " I'm sure it's him . " As she spoke , the door opened , and ...
Página 15
... heard you spege of him before , " replied his wife . " He musd be a bery gootlooging man , dat Protty , if he's lige me . " " He is very goodlooking , " affirmed Scales . " You'll see him by and by , I dare say . " " Oh yes , he's sure ...
... heard you spege of him before , " replied his wife . " He musd be a bery gootlooging man , dat Protty , if he's lige me . " " He is very goodlooking , " affirmed Scales . " You'll see him by and by , I dare say . " " Oh yes , he's sure ...
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Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance, General Literature ..., Volumen19 Vista completa - 1851 |
Términos y frases comunes
Aleppo Antioch Apamea appeared Arabs arrived Auriol Baldred beauty Bimbelot brother brought called Captain character church Colonel cried death Doctor door Doyle duchess Duchess of Marlborough duke Euphrates exclaimed eyes father feeling fire French give Guiscard hand Harley head heard heart Hibblethwaite honour horse hour Hugh John Manesty Kate king lady living look lord madam Manesty Masham mind morning Morocco nature never night once party passed passion Pat Doyle Patrick Doyle person PHAON plain Plumpton poet Polka Party poor Port William portmanteau present Proddy queen rejoined remarkable replied returned river round ruins Sacheverell Saint-John Sandman SAPHO Savidge scene seemed serjeant shewed side soul spirit spot stood story Strabo Syria tears thee thing thou thought tion took town Turkomans turned Varnham voice Westerwood wife Wolsterholme woman words young
Pasajes populares
Página 179 - And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. Now, Lycidas, the Shepherds weep no more; Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood.
Página 395 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds...
Página 83 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Página 178 - And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy...
Página 179 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Página 391 - Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts. And every sweetness that inspired their hearts. Their minds, and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest.
Página 177 - Hath decked their rising cheeks in red, Such as on your lips is spread ! Here be berries for a queen, Some be red, some be green ; These are of that luscious meat, The great god Pan himself doth eat : All these, and what the woods can yield, The hanging mountain or the field, I freely offer...
Página 83 - ... beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright...
Página 499 - Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; For what is in this world but grief and woe? O God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...
Página 280 - tis, that you should carry me away: And trust me not, my friends, if, every day, I walk not here with more delight, Than ever, after the most happy fight, In triumph to the capitol I rode, To thank the gods, and to be thought, myself, almost a god.