Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford, to Sir Horace Mann: His Britannic Majesty's Resident at the Court of Florence, from 1760 to 1785. Now First Published from the Original Mss, Том 2

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Сторінка 146 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Сторінка 307 - That the influence of the crown had increased, was increasing, and ought to be diminished:" and Mr Burke's bill of reform was framed with skill, introduced with eloquence, and supported by numbers.
Сторінка 88 - At this man's table I enjoyed many cheerful and instructive hours, with companions such as are not often found; with one who has lengthened, and one who has gladdened life; with Dr. James, whose skill in...
Сторінка 90 - I ever looked on Lord Keppel as one of the greatest and best men of his age; and I loved, and cultivated him accordingly. He was much in my heart, and I believe I was in his to the very last beat.
Сторінка 184 - ... destroyed every temple. The miserable inhabitants flying from their flaming villages, in part were slaughtered; others, without regard to sex, to age, to the respect of rank, or sacredness of function, fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry and amidst the goading spears of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses, were swept into captivity in an unknown and hostile land. Those who were able to evade this tempest fled to the walled cities. But...
Сторінка 107 - There my Retreat, the best Companions grace, Chiefs out of War, and Statesmen out of Place. There ST JOHN mingles with my friendly Bowl, The Feast of Reason, and the Flow of Soul. And HE, whose Lightning pierc'd th...
Сторінка 107 - To VIRTUE ONLY and HER FRIENDS A FRIEND, The world beside may murmur, or commend. Know, all the distant din that world can keep, Rolls o'er my grotto, and but soothes my sleep. There, my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place.
Сторінка 47 - To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near, Here lies the friend most lov'd, the son most dear: Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide, Or gave his father grief but when he dy'd.
Сторінка 27 - It was circulated with profusion, and, for writing it, the Common Council of London voted the Doctor their thanks, and presented him with the freedom of the city in a gold box.
Сторінка 184 - A storm of universal fire blasted every field, consumed every house, destroyed every temple. The miserable inhabitants, flying from their flaming villages, in part were slaughtered; others, without regard to sex, to age, to the respect of rank or sacredness of function, fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry, and...

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