Mary and Charles Lamb: Poems, Letters

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Chatto and Windus, 1874 - 338 страници
 

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Страница 178 - Then I told how for seven long years, in hope sometimes, sometimes in despair, yet persisting ever, I courted the fair Alice W n; and as much as children could understand, I explained to them what coyness and difficulty and denial meant in maidens — when suddenly, turning to Alice, the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a reality of representment, that I became in doubt which of them stood...
Страница 250 - My love is fair, my love is gay, As fresh as bin the flowers in May, And of my love my roundelay, My merry merry merry roundelay, Concludes with Cupid's curse, They that do change old love for new, Pray gods, they change for worse ! AMBO, simul.
Страница 9 - It is no new thing for me to be left to my sister. When she is not violent, her rambling chat is better to me than the sense and sanity of this world. Her heart is obscured, not buried ; it breaks out occasionally ; and one can discern a strong mind struggling with the billows that have gone over it. I could be nowhere happier than under the same roof with her.
Страница 104 - Birthday beau surpassing him, Never did with conscious gait Strut about in half the state, Or the pride (yet free from sin) Of my little MANIKIN : Never was there pride, or bliss, Half so rational as his. Sashes, frocks, to those that need 'em — Philip's limbs have got their freedom — He can run, or he can ride, And do twenty things beside, Which his petticoats...
Страница 256 - Alas ! can we ring the bells backward ? Can we unlearn the arts that pretend to civilize, and then burn the world ? There is a march of science ; but who shall beat the drums for its retreat...
Страница 302 - I shall die soon, my dear Charles Lamb, and then you will not be vexed that I have bescribbled your book.
Страница 212 - Coleridge, I know not what suffering scenes you have gone through at Bristol. My life has been somewhat diversified of late. The six weeks that finished last year and began this, your very humble servant spent very agreeably in a madhouse, at Hoxton. I am got somewhat rational now, and don't bite any one. But mad I was ; and many a vagary my imagination played with me, enough to make a volume, if all were told.
Страница 127 - She had a way of repeating her brother's words assertingly when he spoke to her. He once said (with his peculiar mood of tenderness, beneath blunt, abrupt speech),
Страница 198 - I used to deposit our day's fare of savory cold lamb and salad — and how you would pry about at noon-tide for some decent house, where we might go in, and produce our store — only paying for the ale that you must call for — and speculate upon the looks of the landlady, and whether she was likely to allow us a table-cloth — and wish for such another honest hostess, as Izaak Walton has described many a one on the pleasant banks of the Lea...

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