The Magazine of the beau monde; or, Monthly journal of fashion [afterw.] The Nouveau beau monde; or Magazine of fashion, Volume 8

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Page 47 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate.
Page 52 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i...
Page 52 - But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more; but indeed Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Page 22 - ... light, Spreading her wings on the bosom of night, Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky, A phantom of beauty — could deem, with a sigh, That so lovely a thing is the mansion of sin, And souls that are smitten lie bursting within?
Page 53 - I will creep into her breast ; Flush her cheek, and bleach her skin, And feed on the vital fire within. Lover, do not trust her eyes, — When they sparkle most she dies ! Mother, do not trust her breath, — Comfort she will breathe in death ! Father, do not strive to save her, — She is mine, and I must have her ! The coffin must be her bridal bed; The winding-sheet must wrap her head ; The whispering winds must o'er her sigh, For soon in the grave the maid must lie. The worm it will riot On heavenly...
Page 75 - In a twinkling, two great stout men with big cudgels issued from the bottle (I do not know how they got room in it), and belaboured poor Mick and his wife and all his family, till they lay on the floor, when in they went again.
Page 73 - I'll go tomorrow, and you must put a needle and thread through my coat, for you know 'tis ripped under the arm.
Page 22 - And the sailor sings gaily aloft in the shrouds : Onward she glides, amid ripple and spray, Over the waters, — away, and away ! Bright as the visions of youth, ere they part, Passing away, like a dream of the heart ! Who as the beautiful pageant sweeps by, Music around her, and sunshine on high — Pauses to think amid glitter and glow...
Page 22 - Night on the waves ! — and the moon is on high, Hung like a gem on the brow of the sky ; Treading its depths in the power of her might, And turning the clouds, as they pass her, to light...
Page 85 - Fourth ;" and, at the last Recognition, the trumpets sounded and the drums beat. His Majesty then took his seat, and the Bible, the Chalice, and the Patina were carried to and placed upon the altar by the Bishops who had borne them.

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