English Lands, Letters and Kings ..., Volum 4C. Scribner's Sons, 1897 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 19.
Pàgina 24
... pretty church - yard of Crosthwaite , a short mile away from his old home . Within the church is a beau- tiful recumbent figure of the poet , which every traveller should see . Crabb Robinson . I had occasion to name Crabb Robinson * as ...
... pretty church - yard of Crosthwaite , a short mile away from his old home . Within the church is a beau- tiful recumbent figure of the poet , which every traveller should see . Crabb Robinson . I had occasion to name Crabb Robinson * as ...
Pàgina 31
... pretty shelf of the hills- scarce lifted above Rydal - water , he gathers his books studies the mountains- provokes the gossip of all the pretty Dalesmen's daughters — lives there a bachelor , eight years or more - ranging round and ...
... pretty shelf of the hills- scarce lifted above Rydal - water , he gathers his books studies the mountains- provokes the gossip of all the pretty Dalesmen's daughters — lives there a bachelor , eight years or more - ranging round and ...
Pàgina 65
... author has also changed his home ; first from the pretty little village of Lasswade , which is down by Dalkeith , to Ashestiel by the Yarrow ; and thence again to a farm - house , near IV . - 5 THE WAVERLEY DISPENSATION,
... author has also changed his home ; first from the pretty little village of Lasswade , which is down by Dalkeith , to Ashestiel by the Yarrow ; and thence again to a farm - house , near IV . - 5 THE WAVERLEY DISPENSATION,
Pàgina 116
... pretty constant dyspepsia , if not a chronic neuralgia . Of a certainty he was a most ma- lignant type of British party critics ; and it is curious how the savors of its first bitterness do still linger about the pages of the Quarterly ...
... pretty constant dyspepsia , if not a chronic neuralgia . Of a certainty he was a most ma- lignant type of British party critics ; and it is curious how the savors of its first bitterness do still linger about the pages of the Quarterly ...
Pàgina 145
... pretty ) ; and again " Upon getting up of a cold morning " -in which he compassionates those who are haled out of their beds by " harpy - footed furies " -discourses on his own experience and sees his own breath rolling forth like smoke ...
... pretty ) ; and again " Upon getting up of a cold morning " -in which he compassionates those who are haled out of their beds by " harpy - footed furies " -discourses on his own experience and sees his own breath rolling forth like smoke ...
Continguts
138 | |
147 | |
157 | |
163 | |
173 | |
187 | |
193 | |
201 | |
65 | |
77 | |
83 | |
92 | |
103 | |
112 | |
118 | |
125 | |
132 | |
212 | |
223 | |
229 | |
237 | |
249 | |
255 | |
265 | |
277 | |
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Visualització completa - 1906 |
English Lands, Letters and Kings: The later Georges to Victoria Donald Grant Mitchell Visualització completa - 1907 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Abbotsford admired beautiful brilliant British Brougham Byron Campbell chapter charming Childe Harold Coleridge comes count Croker daughter death delight Diary Disraeli early Edinboro Edinburgh Review encounter England English Lands father FRANCIS JEFFREY friends gentleman George George IV glitter Godwin grace Hazlitt heart Hunt's J. G. Lockhart Jeffrey John Wilson John Wilson Croker kindly King Lady Blessington Lake Landor later Leigh Hunt letters literary living Lockhart London Lord Lord Brougham Lord Byron Macaulay Mackintosh marriage married memory Moore mother mountain never Newstead passion poem poet poetic political pretty Prince Quarterly Queen Quincey Review Robert Southey royal says Shelley Smailholme Tower Southey speech story Sydney Smith talk tell thee things thou tion touch trees Tweed verse voice Walter Scott wife William William Hazlitt witty wonderful Wordsworth writes wrote young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 63 - Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth...
Pàgina 230 - Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth...
Pàgina 63 - Once again I see These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms, Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke Sent up, in silence, from among the trees...
Pàgina 196 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Pàgina 9 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.
Pàgina 232 - Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning bed Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep; For he is gone, where all things wise and fair Descend; — oh, dream not that the amorous Deep Will yet restore him to the vital air; Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.
Pàgina 101 - Parting-ton's spirit was up ; but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop, or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease — be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington.
Pàgina 268 - Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind ; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. " Down with him ! " cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
Pàgina 173 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
Pàgina 212 - I do not believe it beguiling, Because it reminds me of thine; And when winds are at war with the ocean, As the breasts I believed in with me, If their billows excite an emotion It is that they bear me from thee.