Punch, Объемы 44-45Punch Publications Limited, 1863 |
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Punch, Объемы 62-63 Mark Lemon,Henry Mayhew,Tom Taylor,Shirley Brooks,Francis Cowley Burnand,Owen Seaman Полный просмотр - 1872 |
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admirable advertisement appear Aurora Floyd believe better Bill Bishop BISHOP COLENSO British called carriage Church City of London course Court Crinoline dear Derby dinner dress DUKE EARL England English feel Fleet Street French garotters gentleman give GLADSTONE Government hand head hear heard honour hope horse House Irish JOHN BULL KING lately look LORD PALMERSTON means Members mind MISS morning NAGGLETON never night noble Office Parish Parliament perhaps persons play Poland Police poor Precinct of Whitefriars present PRINCE PRINCE OF WALES Princess Punch question railway remark Royal Russia Sabbatarian SHAKSPEARE SIR GEORGE GREY speech suppose sure talk tell theatre there's thing thought town Upper Woburn Place walk wife William Bradbury wish wonder words Yankee young lady
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Стр. 124 - From Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay, That time of slumber was as bright and busy as the day; For swift to east and swift to west the ghastly warflame spread, High on St. Michael's Mount it shone: it shone on Beachy Head. Far on the deep the Spaniard saw, along each southern shire, Cape beyond cape, in endless range, those twinkling points of fire.
Стр. 173 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Стр. 97 - Not yet, not yet to interfere does England see occasion, But treats our good commissioner with coolness and evasion; Such coolness in the premises, that really 'tis refrigerant To think that two long years ago she called us a belligerent. But, further, Downing- street is dumb, the premier deaf to reason, As deaf as is the Morning...
Стр. 203 - When heaven is opening on my sightless eyes, When airs from paradise refresh my brow, The earth in darkness lies. In a purer clime, My being fills with rapture — waves of thought Roll in upon my spirit — strains sublime Break over me unsought. Give me now my lyre ! I feel the stirrings of a gift divine ; Within my bosom glows unearthly fire, Lit by no skill of mine.
Стр. 161 - You can meet this figure in the street, and live, and even smile at the recollection. But conceive of her in a ball-room, with the bare, brawny arms that she invariably displays there, and all the other corresponding development, such as is beautiful in the maiden blossom, but a spectacle to howl at in such an over-blown cabbage-rose as this.
Стр. 97 - Of course we claim the shining fame of glorious Stonewall Jackson, Who typifies the English race, a sterling Anglo-Saxon; To bravest song his deeds belong, to Clio and Melpomene" . . . (And why not for a British stream demand the Chickahominy ?) "But for the cause in which he fell we cannot lift a finger. 'Tis idle on the question any longer here to linger; 'Tis true the South has freely bled, her sorrows are Homeric, oh ! Her case is like to his of old who journeyed unto Jericho — • "The thieves...
Стр. 161 - She has an awful ponderosity of frame, not pulpy, like the looser development of our few fat women, but massive with solid beef and streaky tallow ; so that (though struggling manfully against the idea) you inevitably think of her as made up of steaks and sirloins.
Стр. 97 - Pam ! hast ever read what's writ in Holy Pages, How blessed the peace-makers are, God's children of the ages ? Perhaps you think the promise sweet was nothing but a platitude, 'Tis clear that you have no concern in that divine beatitude. But "hear! hear! hear!
Стр. 97 - em fight, till both are brought to hopeless desolation, Till wolves troop round the cottage door, in one and t'other nation, Till, worn and broken down, the South shall prove no more refractory, And rust eats up the silent looms of every Yankee factory — "Till bursts no more the cotton boll o'er...
Стр. 44 - Liturgy, to keep the mean between the two extremes, of too much stiffness in refusing, and of too much easiness in admitting any variation from it.