The Bijou; or, Annual of literature and the artsWilliam Pickering, 1828 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 45
Página 9
... once they had me in their hold ' tis death they'd make my pain . Some one perchance my friend will be , such hope not yet I lack ; The men that speak this ill of me , they speak behind my back ; I know it would their hearts delight , if ...
... once they had me in their hold ' tis death they'd make my pain . Some one perchance my friend will be , such hope not yet I lack ; The men that speak this ill of me , they speak behind my back ; I know it would their hearts delight , if ...
Página 10
... once again to mine ownland repair : I never was a homicide - not with my will - I swear , Nor robber , christian folk to spoil , that on their way did fare , This rhyme was made within the wood , beneath a broad bay tree ; There singeth ...
... once again to mine ownland repair : I never was a homicide - not with my will - I swear , Nor robber , christian folk to spoil , that on their way did fare , This rhyme was made within the wood , beneath a broad bay tree ; There singeth ...
Página 23
... once more sat beside him , and said— “ Abel , my brother , I would lament for thee , but that the spirit within me is wi- thered , and burnt up with extreme agony . Now , I pray thee , by thy flocks and by thy pastures , and by the ...
... once more sat beside him , and said— “ Abel , my brother , I would lament for thee , but that the spirit within me is wi- thered , and burnt up with extreme agony . Now , I pray thee , by thy flocks and by thy pastures , and by the ...
Página 44
... once there was a baton on my shield , That stain being erased and nullified By the decree I spake of Now their hearts Would scarcely brook to see the post of honour Filled by a stranger , howsoever noble In blood , and whatsoever pennon ...
... once there was a baton on my shield , That stain being erased and nullified By the decree I spake of Now their hearts Would scarcely brook to see the post of honour Filled by a stranger , howsoever noble In blood , and whatsoever pennon ...
Página 50
... Onis Thou hadst a playmate once . Ha ! Father Joseph , Who drew that bare scalp from a monkery , And clapped a mitre on't ? Sweet lords , good night . [ Exit Pedro . DU GUESCLIN . Le Begue , attend the Herald to 50 SPANISH DRAMATIC SKETCH .
... Onis Thou hadst a playmate once . Ha ! Father Joseph , Who drew that bare scalp from a monkery , And clapped a mitre on't ? Sweet lords , good night . [ Exit Pedro . DU GUESCLIN . Le Begue , attend the Herald to 50 SPANISH DRAMATIC SKETCH .
Términos y frases comunes
Adam Ferguson appeared Appollonia Augustus Fox Baal baron Battle of Montiel beautiful Beauvilliers BEGUE beneath brave breath bright brow Cain Cathleen Chancery Lane cheek child cried crown 8vo dark David Wilkie dost doth dream Earl exclaimed eyes fair farewell father fear flowers Gabriella grace grave grief GUESCLIN Halloran hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Henry Hogan honour hope HOUSSAYE husband John Gibson Lockhart King Lady Leonora Leverton light look Lord MARIA DE PADILLA Master Bertram Master Toby morning never night noble o'er old woman ONIS Painted passed Pedlar Pedro PEREZ poor Portrait Queen R.A. Engraved racter Reichenstein replied RODRIGO rose round S. T. Coleridge scarcely Sir Thomas Lawrence sleep smile SOLDIER soul Stothard sweet tell thee thine thing Thomas Thomas Stothard thou art thought turned voice vols William Pickering young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 24 - All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair — The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.
Página 139 - Youth! for years so many and sweet, 'Tis known that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone! Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:— And thou wert aye a masker bold!
Página 24 - The bees are stirring — birds are on the wing — And Winter, slumbering in the open air, Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring! And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing, Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing. Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow, Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow. Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may, For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
Página 20 - Fairly began — but finish'd not; And fruitless, late remorse doth trace — Like Hebrew lore a backward pace — Her irrecoverable race. Disjointed numbers; sense unknit Huge reams of folly, shreds of wit; Compose the mingled mass of it. My scalded eyes no longer brook Upon this ink-blurr'd thing to look — Go, shut the leaves, and clasp the book.
Página 138 - twixt Now and Then! This breathing house not built with hands, This body that does me grievous wrong, O'er aery cliffs and glittering sands, How lightly then it flashed along: — Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore, On winding lakes and rivers wide, That ask no aid of sail or oar, That fear no spite of wind or tide! Nought cared this body for wind or weather When Youth and I lived in't together.
Página 140 - A wild-rose roofs the ruined shed, And that and summer well agree : And lo ! where Mary leans her head, Two dear names carved upon the tree ! And Mary's tears, they are not tears of sorrow...
Página 12 - neath the curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came ; And lo ! creation widened in man's view.
Página 138 - Tis known, that Thou and I were one, I'll think it but a fond conceit— It cannot be that Thou art gone! Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd:— And thou wert aye a masker bold! What strange disguise hast now put on, To make believe, that thou art gone?
Página 304 - Face of the curled streams, with flow'rs as many As the young spring gives, and as choice as any ; Here be all new delights, cool streams and wells ; Arbours o'ergrown with woodbines, caves and dells ; Choose where thou wilt...
Página xi - With the hare through the copses and dingles wild ! With the butterfly over the heath, fair child ? Yes : the light fall of thy bounding feet Hath not startled the wren from her mossy seat ; Yet hast thou ranged the green forest-dells, And brought back a treasure of buds and bells.