Works, Том 1

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Страница 246 - I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand.
Страница 265 - Of dragon-watch with unenchanted eye To save her blossoms, and defend her fruit, From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.
Страница 66 - What hell it is, in suing long to bide : To lose good days, that might be better spent ; To waste long nights in pensive discontent ; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope, to pme with fear and sorrow...
Страница 237 - OH could my mind, unfolded in my page, Enlighten climes and mould a future age ; There as it glowed, with noblest frenzy fraught, Dispense the treasures of exalted thought; To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart, And bid the tear of emulation start! Oh could it still, thro...
Страница 261 - When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled, A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed ; What to thy soul its glad assurance gave, Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave ? The sweet Remembrance of unblemished youth, The still inspiring voice of Innocence and Truth...
Страница 382 - ... keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope" — we have presumed to court the assistance of the friends of the drama to strengthen our infant institution.
Страница 50 - the greatest part of the buildings in the cities and good towns of England consisted only of timber, cast over with thick clay to keep out the wind. The new houses of the nobility were indeed either of brick or stone; and glass windows were then beginning to be used in England:" 11 and clean rushes were strewed over the dirty floors of the royal palace.
Страница 28 - I'm too cute for him yet. See there, now, he's come to; and I'll be his bail he'll go asy enough wid me. Ogh! he has a fine spirit of his own, but it's I that can match him: 'twould be a poor case if a man like me cou'dn't match a horse any way, let alone a mare, which this is, or it never would be so vicious.
Страница 300 - The description, however, has been touched by one of our poets: 'Julia's a manager: she's born for rule, And knows her wiser husband is a fool. For her own breakfast she'll project a scheme, Nor take her tea without a stratagem.