The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb: Miscellaneous prose, 1798-1834Methuen & Company, 1903 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 100.
Pàgina 3
... poor dear father and mother - I would have you think about them sometimes - it would be strange if you did not — but I fear , Rosamund ; I fear , girl , you sometimes think too deeply about your own situation and poor prospects in life ...
... poor dear father and mother - I would have you think about them sometimes - it would be strange if you did not — but I fear , Rosamund ; I fear , girl , you sometimes think too deeply about your own situation and poor prospects in life ...
Pàgina 4
... poor cottage . - Dost hear , girl ? why don't you answer ? come , I did not mean to say any thing to hurt you - speak to me , Rosamund ― nay , I must not have you be sullen - I don't love people that are sullen . " And in this manner ...
... poor cottage . - Dost hear , girl ? why don't you answer ? come , I did not mean to say any thing to hurt you - speak to me , Rosamund ― nay , I must not have you be sullen - I don't love people that are sullen . " And in this manner ...
Pàgina 15
... poor pale cheeks - you know the sweetness of his smile , Maria . To - day , after dinner , when he took his glass of wine in his hand , he burst into tears , and would not , or could not then , tell me the reason - afterwards he told me ...
... poor pale cheeks - you know the sweetness of his smile , Maria . To - day , after dinner , when he took his glass of wine in his hand , he burst into tears , and would not , or could not then , tell me the reason - afterwards he told me ...
Pàgina 16
... poor eyes red with weeping , and taking me by the hand , destroy the vision in a moment . I am prating to you , my sweet cousin , but it is the prattle of the heart , which Maria loves . Besides , whom have I to talk to of these things ...
... poor eyes red with weeping , and taking me by the hand , destroy the vision in a moment . I am prating to you , my sweet cousin , but it is the prattle of the heart , which Maria loves . Besides , whom have I to talk to of these things ...
Pàgina 29
... poor sick people under their care . It is not medicine , it is not broths and coarse meats , served up at a stated hour with all the hard formalities of a prison , -it is not the scanty dole of a bed to die on -- which dying man ...
... poor sick people under their care . It is not medicine , it is not broths and coarse meats , served up at a stated hour with all the hard formalities of a prison , -it is not the scanty dole of a bed to die on -- which dying man ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb: Miscellaneous prose, 1798-1834 Charles Lamb,Mary Lamb Visualització completa - 1903 |
The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb: Miscellaneous prose, 1798-1834 Charles Lamb,Mary Lamb Visualització completa - 1903 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
actor admirable Allan beautiful Bernard Barton called character Charles Lamb Christ's Hospital Clare Coleridge Confessions countenance death delight edition Editor Elia essay Every-Day Book eyes face fancy father feel genius George Wither give hand hath head heart Hogarth honour humour imagination Industry and Idleness John King lady Lamb's Lear Leigh Hunt Lepus letter Leucippus line from foot living London Magazine look Lycia Macbeth Mary Lamb melancholy mind Miss Kelly moral Munden nature never night Paradise Lost passage passion person picture play pleasure poem poet poor present printed Rake's Progress reader Reflector reprinted by Lamb Richard Richard II Rosamund Rosamund Gray scene seems Shakspeare shew smile sort soul Southey speak spirit story sweet thee thing Thomas thou thought verse Widford Wither words write wrote young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 470 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan...
Pàgina 370 - 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...
Pàgina 501 - I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made : marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
Pàgina 222 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, Far from all resort of mirth, Save the cricket on the hearth, Or the bellman's drowsy charm To bless the doors from nightly harm.
Pàgina 200 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Pàgina 218 - I shall detain you no longer in the demonstration of what we should not do, but straight conduct you to a hill-side, where I will point you out the right path of a virtuous and noble education; laborious indeed at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospect and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming.
Pàgina 374 - Where Angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Pàgina 104 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Pàgina 200 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, 220 And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven : — Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Pàgina 391 - The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen ; The monarch may forget the crown ' That on his head an hour has been ; The mother may forget the child That smiles sae sweetly on her knee ; But I'll remember thee, Glencairn, And a' that thou hast done for me ! " LINES, SENT TO SIR JOHN WHITEFORD, OF WHITEFORD, BART.