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Сторінка 164 - Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
Сторінка 164 - In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, Which is lord of thy utterance, Christabel...
Сторінка 265 - The parties broke up without noise and without confusion. They were carried home by their own carriages; that is to say, by the vehicles Nature had provided them, excepting such of the wealthy as could afford to keep a wagon.
Сторінка 432 - Katterfelto, with his hair on end At his own wonders, wondering for his bread.
Сторінка 265 - ... monkey divertisements of smart young gentlemen, with no brains at all. On the contrary, the young ladies seated themselves demurely in their rush-bottomed chairs, and knit their own woollen stockings; nor ever opened their lips, excepting to say yah Mynheer...
Сторінка 198 - THE FANCY: A Selection from the Poetical Remains of the late Peter Corcoran, of Gray's Inn, student at law. With a brief Memoir of his life.
Сторінка 139 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Сторінка 71 - With cool and verdant gardens interspersed ; Here towers of war that frown in massy strength. While over all hangs the rich purple eve, As conscious of its being her last farewell Of light and glory to that fated city. And. as our clouds of battle dust and smoke Are melted into air, behold the Temple...
Сторінка 265 - The company being seated around the genial board, and each furnished with a fork, evinced their dexterity in lanching at the fattest pieces in this mighty dish — in much the same manner as sailors harpoon porpoises at sea, or our Indians spear salmon in the lakes.