Eliza Cook's Journal, Том 1Eliza Cook John Owen Clarke, 1849 |
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Admiral Adrien Alice Ballycotton beautiful better Birmingham called character child City of London classes dear door Duddlestone ELIZA COOK England eyes face father feeling fire Fleet Street flowers garden George Stephenson girl give green Gussett hand happy head heart Hemingford honour hope hour human Islington Jack Richards John Ashmore kind labour lady Leigh Hunt light live London look Madeley Mary matter means ment mind Moggs moral morning mother nature never night once passed pleasure Pompey poor Port Phillip Ragged Schools rich round seemed servant shilling smile society soon Sorento sorrow sort soul speak spirit street sweet tell thee things thought tion town truth turn voice walk whilst wife Willenhall window woman words young
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Сторінка 270 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Сторінка 86 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favorite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; "The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Сторінка 290 - I read in their looks nothing but disaster, and almost repented of my efforts. The signal was given, and the boat moved on a short distance, and then stopped, and became immovable. To the silence of the preceding moment now succeeded murmurs of discontent and agitation, and whispers and shrugs. I could hear distinctly repeated, ' I told you so, — it is a foolish scheme. I wish we were well out of it.
Сторінка 140 - one half of the world does not know how the other half lives.
Сторінка 86 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Сторінка 271 - All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Сторінка 85 - Wide was his parish; not contracted close In streets, but here and there a straggling house ; Yet still he was at hand, without request, To serve the sick, to succour the distressed; Tempting, on foot, alone, without affright, The dangers of a dark tempestuous night.
Сторінка 337 - His chief pleasures were commonly derived from field sports and from an unrefined sensuality. His language and pronunciation were such as we should now expect to hear only from the most ignorant clowns. His oaths, coarse jests, and scurrilous terms of abuse, were uttered with the broadest accent of his province.
Сторінка 271 - Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma.
Сторінка 106 - What wonderful accessions have thus been made, and are still making, to the physical power of mankind ; how much better fed, clothed, lodged, and, in all outward respects, accommodated, men now are, or might be, by a given quantity of labour, is a grateful reflection which forces itself on every one.