The Treasury of Literature and Art: a Selection from the Best WritersW.P. Nimmo, 1872 - 160 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 17
... called Ross , and another at the Bath , one Al- Al— * I forget his name , but it is in the book of verses . This gentleman hath built up a stately house , too , which the squire likes very well : but his charity is seen farther than his ...
... called Ross , and another at the Bath , one Al- Al— * I forget his name , but it is in the book of verses . This gentleman hath built up a stately house , too , which the squire likes very well : but his charity is seen farther than his ...
الصفحة 20
... called , who presidest over biography , and hast inspired all the writers of lives in these our times , -thou who didst infuse such wonderful humour into the pen of immortal Gulliver ; who hast carefully guided the judgment , whilst ...
... called , who presidest over biography , and hast inspired all the writers of lives in these our times , -thou who didst infuse such wonderful humour into the pen of immortal Gulliver ; who hast carefully guided the judgment , whilst ...
الصفحة 22
... called his hounds from the fight ; telling them , in a language they understood , that it was in vain to contend longer ; for that fate had decreed the victory to their enemies . Thus far the muse hath with her usual dignity related ...
... called his hounds from the fight ; telling them , in a language they understood , that it was in vain to contend longer ; for that fate had decreed the victory to their enemies . Thus far the muse hath with her usual dignity related ...
الصفحة 30
... as bills of exchange and other notes , things I did not understand ; but among the rest was a goldsmith's note , as he called it , of one Sir Stephen Evans , for £ 300 , payable to the 30 THE TREASURY OF LITERATURE AND ART .
... as bills of exchange and other notes , things I did not understand ; but among the rest was a goldsmith's note , as he called it , of one Sir Stephen Evans , for £ 300 , payable to the 30 THE TREASURY OF LITERATURE AND ART .
الصفحة 31
... called foreign bills accepted . The rogue , my master , knew what belonged to the goldsmith's bills well enough , and I observed , when he read the bill of Sir Stephen , he said , " This is too big for me to meddle with ; " but when he ...
... called foreign bills accepted . The rogue , my master , knew what belonged to the goldsmith's bills well enough , and I observed , when he read the bill of Sir Stephen , he said , " This is too big for me to meddle with ; " but when he ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ABOU BEN ADHEM Adams appeared arms beheld beneath bride bridegroom Caliph cassock chamber cried dæmon dark death doctor dogs door doth dream Emilia and Julia enemy eyes farewell fate fear fell Ferdinand Frankenstein gallery gaze Giaour hall hand Harley hast hath heard heart heaven hollow hope hour hung Imoinde Isabella John Anderson Joseph Joseph Andrews journey knew lady LEIGH HUNT light look lost Manfred Maria Modern Prometheus Monimia ne'er never night Nouronihar o'er once Oroonoko passed perceived pockets poor postillion praise pre-Adamite pursued Rayland returned says seized Sicilian Romance sight silent sitting sledge sleep smile soon soul sound spirits staircase Stephen Evans stone stood Surinam tankard tears tell Tenterden terror thee things thou thought told took tower tree Tristram Shandy Vathek voice walk wild wind young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 56 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
الصفحة 92 - I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to t,he same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is ? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you wrong) us, shall we not revenge i if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
الصفحة 75 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There, ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
الصفحة 60 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
الصفحة 75 - Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's every grace, except the heart!
الصفحة 119 - Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gavest me, though unfelt, a kiss ; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss ; Ah, that maternal smile, it answers yes...
الصفحة 27 - Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet! Gazing, with a timid glance, On the brooklet's swift advance, On the river's broad expanse ! Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream. Then why pause with indecision, When bright angels in thy vision Beckon thee to fields Elysian...
الصفحة 24 - In a drear-nighted December Too happy, happy Tree Thy branches ne'er remember Their green felicity : The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them, Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime.
الصفحة 59 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
الصفحة 119 - Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went, Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned at last submission to my lot, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot.