Recollections of the Mess-table and the Stage

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T. Bosworth, 1855 - 248
 

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Strona 175 - Lay her i' the earth : And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring ! I tell thee churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling.
Strona 104 - Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart, wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Strona 101 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise...
Strona 168 - Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With belted sword, and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright, Neither by day, nor yet by night...
Strona 103 - He was much given to all unluckiness, in stealing venison and rabbits ; particularly from Sir Lucy, who had him oft whipped, and sometimes imprisoned, and at last made him fly his native country, to his great advancement.
Strona 182 - The breath of our nostrils, the Lord's anointed, was taken in their pit.' " In 1648 the mayor received orders to apprehend the Duke of York ; who, says the order, " will probably attempt to escape in woman's apparel." In 1659, the King came to Sandwich, together with the Duke of York, the chivalrous Rupert, and the Earl of Sandwich. On this occasion his Majesty, without dismounting, drank a cup of sack at the door of the Bell Inn, to the health of the mayor, who handed the same. The Cinque Ports...
Strona 129 - But pleasures are like poppies spread : You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches Tam maun ride : That hour, o...
Strona 73 - And I beseech you, Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right, do a little wrong, And curb this cruel devil of his will.
Strona 215 - Thy mistress is o' the brothel. Son of sixteen, Pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, With it beat out his brains ! Piety and fear, Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, Domestic awe, night-rest and...

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