The Gentleman's Magazine, Partea 1Bradbury, Evans, 1874 |
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Pagina v
... feel the presence of a great circle of friends , all of whom are touched with a something of zest and enthusiasm for the good name and continued career of honour of the Gentleman's Magazine . Readers and writers have been inspired with ...
... feel the presence of a great circle of friends , all of whom are touched with a something of zest and enthusiasm for the good name and continued career of honour of the Gentleman's Magazine . Readers and writers have been inspired with ...
Pagina 2
... feel of fetters and the corroding rust that such a parenthesis leaves far below the skin . And this man was no longer young - he looked almost as old as his clothes . He was thin and meagre , without an ounce of spare flesh on his bones ...
... feel of fetters and the corroding rust that such a parenthesis leaves far below the skin . And this man was no longer young - he looked almost as old as his clothes . He was thin and meagre , without an ounce of spare flesh on his bones ...
Pagina 9
... feel the pangs of hunger both soon and sorely . The hour of the mid - day meal was now long past , and his fasting march in the sea- breeze and hill - wind had proved exhausting to this gaol - bird who had been suddenly turned out of a ...
... feel the pangs of hunger both soon and sorely . The hour of the mid - day meal was now long past , and his fasting march in the sea- breeze and hill - wind had proved exhausting to this gaol - bird who had been suddenly turned out of a ...
Pagina 32
... feel in the pocket of my shooting jacket , and bring me down a letter with a - a - a New York envelope . Charley died in New York , my dear . " " Well , John , it's all the better , it's so far away . You needn't even get a hat - band ...
... feel in the pocket of my shooting jacket , and bring me down a letter with a - a - a New York envelope . Charley died in New York , my dear . " " Well , John , it's all the better , it's so far away . You needn't even get a hat - band ...
Pagina 37
... feel quite so sanguine as , between eight and nine o'clock the next morning - weather chilly and a damp fog hanging about - I crossed the little bridge leading to Bastion No. 84 , wondering whether there were really a Bastion No. 1 and ...
... feel quite so sanguine as , between eight and nine o'clock the next morning - weather chilly and a damp fog hanging about - I crossed the little bridge leading to Bastion No. 84 , wondering whether there were really a Bastion No. 1 and ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
appeared asked Aunt Barnard Bazaine beauty Beckfield Bill called Captain Westwood character Church Clytie course Court Cuffing Cuffing's Cuttle Fish dear Dickens Disraeli Don Pedro door Dunelm English Erith eyes face father feel fish Gaucho gentleman Gerald girl give Gladstone grandfather Gressford hand heard heart Holland honour hour House of Commons John John Keats Kalmat Keats knew Lady St Leigh Hunt letter live London looked Lord Calmont Lord St lordship Magistrate manner matter mind morning nature never night Olympia once owld Parliament passed perhaps poem poet poor present question Ransford remember round seemed Shirley Brooks Sir John Pakington smile soul speak stood Street sure tell thing thought tion told Tom Harris took turned voice walk Wendale Westminster Palace Westwood word young
Pasaje populare
Pagina 203 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Pagina 543 - All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence ; ripen, fall and cease : Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.
Pagina 543 - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
Pagina 434 - Life of Life, thy lips enkindle With their love the breath between them; And thy smiles before they dwindle Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes.
Pagina 432 - The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds Which trample the dim winds: in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars: Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed. As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing...
Pagina 64 - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ?" Quoth little Peterkin. " Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
Pagina 184 - A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness...
Pagina 186 - Stop and consider! life is but a day; A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way From a tree's summit; a poor Indian's sleep While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep Of Montmorenci. Why so sad a moan? Life is the rose's hope while yet unblown; The reading of an ever-changing tale; The light uplifting of a maiden's veil; A pigeon tumbling in clear summer air; A laughing school-boy, without grief or care, Riding the springy branches of an elm.
Pagina 181 - The more they on it stare. But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, Are governed with goodly modesty, That suffers not one look to glance awry Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Pagina 187 - KEEN, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry ; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn on high, Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair: For I am brimfull of the friendliness That in a little cottage I have found ; Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress, And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd...