What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
able affected appears asked beautiful believe better brought called carried cause character Charles Church close course court death died doubt early England equally eyes face fact fair father feeling feet give given hand head heard heart hope horses hour interest Italy kind King known lady land learned leave less light lines lived look Lord manner matter means ment mind nature never night object once party passed period person poet poor present question received round scarcely seemed seen side soon speak spirit stand success tell thing thou thought tion took turned voice whole wife wish young
Page 184 - tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Page 555 - But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery. And their going from us to be utter destruction: but they are in peace.
Page 365 - The Family Shakspeare ; in which nothing is added to the Original Text ; but those words and expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety be read aloud. By T. BOWDLER, Esq. FRS New Edition, in Volumes for the Pocket ; with 36 Wood Engravings, from Designs by Smirke, Howard, and other Artists.
Page 452 - All fly to Twit'nam, and in humble strain Apply to me, to keep them mad or vain.
Page 244 - Here lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull.
Page 184 - And (what's aft mair than a' the lave) Your better art o' hidin. Think, when your castigated pulse Gies now and then a wallop, What raging must his veins convulse, That still eternal gallop : Wi' wind and tide fair i' your tail, Right on ye scud your sea-way ; But in the teeth o' baith to sail, It makes an unco leeway.
Page 588 - Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loosed his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts ; But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Page 252 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Page 389 - The spirit it is impossible not to admire ; but the old Parisian ferocity has broken out in a shocking manner. It is true, that this may be no more than a sudden explosion ; if so, no indication can be taken from it; but if it should be character, rather than accident, then that people are not fit for liberty, and must have a strong hand, like that of their former masters, to coerce them.