The Ladies' pocket magazine

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الصفحة 29 - Going to the Wars Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. 1 Imprisoned or caged. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
الصفحة 147 - Why send him for defiance then. Tell him I love his wife ; but that a worthless husband forbids our union. I'll make a widow of you, and court you honourably.
الصفحة 151 - John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen.
الصفحة 247 - ROUSSEAU— Voltaire— Our Gibbon and De Stael— Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore,* Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more, Their memory thy remembrance would recall : To them thy banks were lovely as to all, But they have made them lovelier, for the lore Of mighty minds doth hallow in the core Of human hearts the ruin of a wall Where dwelt the wise and wondrous...
الصفحة 109 - Why, what a World is this! The Slave that digs for Gold, receives his daily Pittance, and sleeps contented ; while those, for whom he labours, convert their Good to Mischief; making Abundance the Means of Want.
الصفحة 96 - God for every exercise of power;" and in the full spirit of a pious and benevolent mind was wont to exclaim, when urged by her ministers to acts of extreme severity, " Let us, mortals, beware how we destroy the works of the Almighty." Her application to the duties of her high office was intense and unremitting; and from the age of thirty to that of sixty, at which age she died, in 1795, she appears to have fully entitled herself to the enthusiastic veneration and the attachment which were lavished...
الصفحة 112 - Charlotte, however, hoping to rouse his pride by the keenness of her taunts, would not desist — " If (she exclaimed), if the misery were all your own, it would matter little; but innocence must suffer — unthinking rioter! whose home was heaven to him! an angel dwelt there, and a little cherub, that crowned his days with blessings! — How has he lost this, heaven, to league with devils !" " Forbear, I say (replied he, impetuously), if you are my sister, spare the remembrance ; it wounds too deeply....
الصفحة 112 - I'ma beggar. — Why, tell it now. I, that can bear the ruin of those dearer to me — the ruin of a sister and her infant, can bear that too. Bev. No more of this — you wring my heart. Char.
الصفحة 184 - That fill'd that glance of thine. As clouds from yonder sun receive A deep and mellow dye, Which scarce the shade of coming eve Can banish from the sky, Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their own pure joy impart ; Their sunshine leaves a glow behind That lightens o'er the heart.
الصفحة 261 - Who bless'd thee at the eventide, my son! And when the shadows of the night steal on, He will not call to prayer. The lips that melted, giving thee to God, Are in the icy keeping of the sod ! Aye.

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