The Little Frenchman and His Water Lots: With Other Sketches of the Times

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Lea & Blanchard, 1839 - 155 páginas

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Página 92 - WOODMAN, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand — Thy axe shall harm it not! That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea — And wouldst thou hew it down?
Página 1 - You owe this strange intelligence, or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting. Speak, I charge you. WITCHES vanish. BAN. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them.
Página 93 - When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand — Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand.
Página 90 - Riding out of town a few days since, in company with a friend, an old gentleman, he invited me to turn down a little, romantic woodland pass, not far from Bloomingdale. " Your object?" inquired I. " Merely to look once more at an old tree planted by my grandfather long before I was born, under which I used to play when a boy, and where my sisters played with me. There I often listened to the good advice of my parents. Father, mother, sisters — all are gone; nothing but the old tree remains.
Página 90 - And a paleness overspread his fine countenance, and tears came to his eyes. After a moment's pause, he added: " Don't think me foolish. I don't know how it is: I never ride out but I turn down this lane to look at that old tree. I have a thousand recollections about it, and I always greet it as a familiar and well-remembered friend.
Página 27 - Ye have the account Of my performance : what remains, ye gods ! But up, and enter now into full bliss ?" So having said, a while he stood, expecting Their universal shout, and high applause, To fill his ear ; when, contrary, he hears On all sides, from innumerable tongues, A dismal universal hiss, the sound Of public scorn...
Página 102 - " No, monsieur, I must have him." " You must ? " " Oui, monsieur," said little dimity breeches, turning pale with apprehension for the safety of his money. " And you can't do without it ? " " No, monsieur, not von other leetle moment longare.
Página 129 - Who's in or out, who moves this grand machine, Nor stirs my curiosity nor spleen. Secrets of state no more I wish to know Than secret movements of a puppetshow : Let but the puppets move, I've my desire, Unseen the hand which guides the master-wire.
Página 22 - ... auction-room — his horse in a foam and himself in a fury. The auctioneer was leaning back in his chair, with his legs stuck out of a low window, quietly smoking a cigar after the labors of the day, and humming the music from the last new opera.

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