Hood's Magazine and Comic Miscellany, Tom 3proprietor, 1845 |
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Strona 9
... give him his supper . The maid - of - all - work immediately complied ; and as after some minutes he continued to eat and drink very quietly , Mr.Postle returned to the surgery and my parents to the parlour . " The tongs and bones ...
... give him his supper . The maid - of - all - work immediately complied ; and as after some minutes he continued to eat and drink very quietly , Mr.Postle returned to the surgery and my parents to the parlour . " The tongs and bones ...
Strona 20
I will give you money , -make you rich , —only let me go , and I will never come near your lover again . ” Her prayers were disregarded , and Susette , throwing open the window , continued to call her companions . The alarm was given ...
I will give you money , -make you rich , —only let me go , and I will never come near your lover again . ” Her prayers were disregarded , and Susette , throwing open the window , continued to call her companions . The alarm was given ...
Strona 21
... give courage to one whose sins have cost him his life , and brought shame and sorrow on his parents ? " We should vainly seek in a modern drawing - room for the elegance and splendour presented by a salon at Paris in the time of the Re ...
... give courage to one whose sins have cost him his life , and brought shame and sorrow on his parents ? " We should vainly seek in a modern drawing - room for the elegance and splendour presented by a salon at Paris in the time of the Re ...
Strona 23
... give me absolution , till I have con- fessed a crime which has long lain heavily on my conscience . All here must remember the student Etienne Grandier , who , two years ago , was condemned to death for the murder of his mistress . At ...
... give me absolution , till I have con- fessed a crime which has long lain heavily on my conscience . All here must remember the student Etienne Grandier , who , two years ago , was condemned to death for the murder of his mistress . At ...
Strona 35
... give in any lan- guage the dash and energy of the original , which I never heard sung with more effect and spirit than by these Hessians . Churchill and myself remained as it were entranced , listening to the bold martial ditty that was ...
... give in any lan- guage the dash and energy of the original , which I never heard sung with more effect and spirit than by these Hessians . Churchill and myself remained as it were entranced , listening to the bold martial ditty that was ...
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 233 - In this state-chamber, dying by degrees, Hours and long hours in the dead night, I ask "Do I live, am I dead?" Peace, peace seems all. Saint Praxed's ever was the church for peace; And so, about this tomb of mine. I fought...
Strona 235 - To comfort me on my entablature Whereon I am to lie till I must ask 'Do I live, am I dead?' There, leave me, there! For ye have stabbed me with ingratitude To death - ye wish it - God, ye wish it! Stone Gritstone, a-crumble!
Strona 489 - No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.
Strona 469 - That what we love shall ne'er be so. I know not why I could not die, I had no earthly hope — but faith, And that forbade a selfish death.
Strona 233 - Put me where I may look at him! True peach, Rosy and flawless: how I earned the prize! Draw close: that conflagration of my church — What then? So much was saved if aught were missed!
Strona 488 - On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Strona 235 - Good strong thick stupefying incensesmoke ! For as I lie here, hours of the dead night, Dying in state and by such slow degrees, I fold my arms as if they clasped a crook, And stretch my feet forth straight as stone can point, And let the bedclothes for a mortcloth drop Into great laps and folds of...
Strona 234 - Ready to twitch the Nymph's last garment off, And Moses with the tables . . . but I know Ye mark me not! What do they whisper thee, Child of my bowels, Anselm?
Strona 60 - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!
Strona 234 - Praxed's ear to pray Horses for ye, and brown Greek manuscripts, And mistresses with great smooth marbly limbs ? — That's if ye carve my epitaph aright, Choice Latin, picked phrase, Tully's every word, No gaudy ware like Gandolf's second line — Tully, my masters? Ulpian serves his need!