The Works of Charles Lamb: To which are Prefixed, His Letters, and a Sketch of His Life, Volum 1

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Harper & Brothers, 1838 - 476 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 337 - Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces. Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood, Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? So might we talk of the old familiar faces.
Pàgina 149 - Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who lived about the time of Shakspeare...
Pàgina 126 - He is retired as noontide dew, Or fountain in a noon-day grove ; And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love...
Pàgina 344 - Such as perplexed lovers use At a need, when, in despair To paint forth their fairest fair, Or in part but to express That exceeding comeliness Which their fancies doth so strike, They borrow language of dislike; And, instead of Dearest Miss...
Pàgina 329 - A month or more hath she been dead, Yet cannot I by force be led To think upon the wormy bed, And her together. A springy motion in her gait, A rising step, did indicate Of pride and joy no common rate, That flush'd her spirit. I know not by what name beside I shall it call : — if 'twas not pride, It was a joy to that allied, She did inherit.
Pàgina 42 - Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun...
Pàgina 106 - The lighted shops of the Strand and Fleet Street ; the innumerable trades, tradesmen, and customers, coaches, waggons, playhouses, all the bustle and wickedness round about Covent Garden ; the watchmen, drunken scenes, rattles — life awake if you awake at all hours of the night ; the impossibility of being dull in Fleet Street ; the crowds, the very dirt and mud, the sun shining upon houses and pavements, the...
Pàgina 59 - As for myself, I walk abroad o' nights And kill sick people groaning under walls : Sometimes I go about and poison wells ; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, See 'em go pinioned along by my door.
Pàgina 106 - ... steams of soups from kitchens ; the pantomimes — London itself a pantomime and a masquerade — all these things work themselves into my mind, and feed me without a power of satiating me. The wonder of these sights impels me into night-walks about her crowded streets, and I often shed tears in the motley Strand, from fulness of joy at so much life.
Pàgina 159 - The pleasure-house is dust : behind, before, This is no common waste, no common gloom ; But Nature, in due course of time, once more Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom. "She leaves these objects to a slow decay, That what we are, and have been, may be known ; But at the coming of the milder day These monuments shall all be overgrown.

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