The Royal lady's magazine, and archives of the court of St. James's

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Стр. 210 - With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train: But neither breath of morn, when she ascends With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit...
Стр. 162 - Remember not, Lord, our offences, nor the offences of our forefathers ; neither take thou vengeance of our sins : spare us, good Lord, spare thy people, whom thou hast redeemed with thy most precious blood, and be not angry with us for ever.
Стр. 47 - No man can tell but he that loves his children, how many delicious accents make a man's heart dance in the pretty conversation of those dear pledges ; their childishness, their stammering, their little angers, their innocence, their imperfections, their ^necessities, are so many little emanations of joy and comfort to him that delights in their persons and society...
Стр. 35 - Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains, Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; Enrage, compose, with more than magic art ; With pity, and with terror, tear my heart ; And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air, To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
Стр. 104 - Go where I will, to me thou art the same — A loved regret which I would not resign. There yet are two things in my destiny, — A world to roam through, and a home with thee.
Стр. 134 - Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends : subjected thus, How can you say to me I am a king?
Стр. 161 - For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive ; And plenteous in mercy unto all them that call upon thee.
Стр. 51 - What heads for painters' easels ! Come here, and kiss the infant, dears — (And give it p'rhaps the measles !) " Your charming boys, I see, are home From Reverend Mr. Russell's ; 'T was very kind to bring them both — (What boots for my new Brussels !) " What ! little Clara left at home ! Well, now, I call that shabby ; I should have loved to kiss her so — (A flabby, dabby, babby !)
Стр. 105 - Leman's is fair ; but think not I forsake The sweet remembrance of a dearer shore : • Sad havoc Time must with my memory make. Ere that or thou can fade these eyes before ; Though, like all things which I have loved, they are Resign'd for ever, or divided far.
Стр. 104 - The gift,— a fate, or will, that walk'd astray ; And I at times have found the struggle hard, And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay : But now I fain would for a time survive, If but to see what next can well arrive.

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