New Monthly Magazine, and Universal Register, Том 39Thomas Campbell, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Samuel Carter Hall, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth, William Ainsworth E. W. Allen, 1833 |
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... John Jones's Pic - Nic 431 433 Eve , by the late Henry Neele 452 The Story of Hester Malpas . By L. E. L. 463 The Government and the Trades ' Unions Simon Techy - a Character 475 480 Stanzas . By L. E. L. . 487 97 , 225 , 387 , 530 New ...
... John Jones's Pic - Nic 431 433 Eve , by the late Henry Neele 452 The Story of Hester Malpas . By L. E. L. 463 The Government and the Trades ' Unions Simon Techy - a Character 475 480 Stanzas . By L. E. L. . 487 97 , 225 , 387 , 530 New ...
Стр. 54
... John Barley- corn , Bart .; these altogether form a picture of pleasure and plenty that no age or country can surpass . In the orchard counties , tod , perry , and cider are flowing from the juicy presses ; very nice liquors to those ...
... John Barley- corn , Bart .; these altogether form a picture of pleasure and plenty that no age or country can surpass . In the orchard counties , tod , perry , and cider are flowing from the juicy presses ; very nice liquors to those ...
Стр. 59
... John Stubble , that's all . " " No doubt of it , Mr. Stubble ; no doubt of it . " " You'll excuse my leaving you alone a few minutes , Mr. Swan- quill- My dear Sir -____ ›› " For , you see , we've lost our old servant , poor Nanny ...
... John Stubble , that's all . " " No doubt of it , Mr. Stubble ; no doubt of it . " " You'll excuse my leaving you alone a few minutes , Mr. Swan- quill- My dear Sir -____ ›› " For , you see , we've lost our old servant , poor Nanny ...
Стр. 60
... John Stubble disappears , leaving me to the silent contemplation of his little parlour . Nature abhors a vacuum : so do I therefore I shall endeavour to fill up the space with a slight sketch of the room before me . First and foremost ...
... John Stubble disappears , leaving me to the silent contemplation of his little parlour . Nature abhors a vacuum : so do I therefore I shall endeavour to fill up the space with a slight sketch of the room before me . First and foremost ...
Стр. 62
... John Stubble's beef , and bread , and cheese , and Bath- coss fall under our knife and fork within the next quarter of an hour : neither shall we notify the magnums of Anno Domini that are quaffed to the most patriotic toasts and social ...
... John Stubble's beef , and bread , and cheese , and Bath- coss fall under our knife and fork within the next quarter of an hour : neither shall we notify the magnums of Anno Domini that are quaffed to the most patriotic toasts and social ...
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Aberfoy admiration amuse appears Aunt Bartleman beautiful better Bill called Captain character church Church Temporalities Ireland continued Byron Covent Garden daughter dear ditto Drury Lane Dublin effect England English exclaimed eyes father favour feeling Ferdinand foreign Frank Horton genius give Græme hand heart Hester honour hope hour improvements interest Ireland Jacob Jones Jeanie Joanna Johnson John Jonathan Crane Kean King labour lady Lane late Liverpool living London look Lord Lord Chamberlain Malpas manner Marianne Moore means ment mind Miss nature never night object observed once Opera opinion Paganini performance perhaps period persons play poor present racter rendered Sabre de bois scarcely seemed singer singing Sir Douglas spirit sweet Tardy taste theatre thing thou thought tion voice whole words young
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Стр. 99 - Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize; But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday! — All this rushed with his blood. — Shall he expire, And unavenged? Arise, ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Стр. 34 - Vice is a monster of such hideous mien, That to be hated, needs but to be seen; But seen too oft', familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Стр. 99 - As for nobility in particular persons, it is a reverend thing to see an ancient castle or building not in decay, or to see a fair timber tree sound and perfect; how much more to behold an ancient noble family, which hath stood against the waves and weathers of time?
Стр. 327 - O, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, » And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, O, how canst thou renounce^ and hope to be forgiven ! These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy,...
Стр. 291 - Every tax ought to be so contrived as both to take out and to keep out of the pockets of the people as Little as possible, over and above what it brings into the public treasury of the state.
Стр. 470 - Now this will not be insurrection ; it will be simply passive resistance. The men may remain at leisure : there is and can be no law to compel them to work against their will.
Стр. 99 - I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, 0260 Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Стр. 46 - Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness ; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted.
Стр. 46 - For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband : else were your children unclean ; but now are they holy.
Стр. 99 - I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a Sonnet, and, when you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an Epitaph.