The British Essayists;: Tatler

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J. Johnson, J. Nichols and son, R. Baldwin, F. and C. Rivington, W. Otridge and son, W.J. and J. Richardson, A. Strahan, R. Faulder, ... [and 40 others], 1808
 

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Сторінка 80 - I do not think my sister so to seek, Or so unprincipled in virtue's book, And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, As that the single want of light and noise (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, And put them into misbecoming plight.
Сторінка 170 - With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train : But neither breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit...
Сторінка 125 - As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman! A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears...
Сторінка 169 - With thee conversing I forget all time ; All seasons and their change, all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds...
Сторінка 185 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Сторінка 104 - O'er other creatures. Yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded : wisdom in discourse with her Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows.
Сторінка 290 - And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, With Ate by his side come hot from hell, Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth With carrion men, groaning for burial.
Сторінка 170 - But neither breath of Morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising sun On this delightful land ; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew ; nor fragrance, after showers ; Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent Night, With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet.
Сторінка 152 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Сторінка 63 - His mother, between laughing and chiding, would have put him out of the room; but I would not part with him so. I found, upon conversation with him, though he was a little noisy in his mirth, that the child had excellent parts, and was a great master of all the learning on the other side eight years old.

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