Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Інші видання - Показати все
able acquainted affectionate affliction answer appears arrival attend believe blessing called cause comfort concerning continued Cowper dear dear cousin delight desire Eartham effect engaged expect experience expressed favour fear feel friendship give given hand happy Hayley Hayley's hear heard heart honour hope intended interest Johnson journey July kind known Lady Hesketh least less letter live looked Lord manner means meet mention Milton mind morning nature never night obliged occasion once opinion passed perhaps person pleased pleasure poems poet poor possible prayers present produce reason received remain respects Romney says seems seen sent soon spirits suppose sure taken Teedon tell thank thing thought tion told truth Unwin verse Weston wish write written wrote
Сторінка 224 - Alike immortalize the dead. I therefore purpose not, or dream, Descanting on his fate, To give the melancholy theme, A more enduring date. But misery still delights to trace Its 'semblance in another's case. No voice divine the storm allay'd, No- light propitious shone; When, snatch'd from all effectual aid, We perish'd each alone : But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he.
Сторінка 151 - Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary! For could I view nor them nor thee, What sight worth seeing could I see ? The sun would rise in vain for me, My Mary! Partakers of thy sad decline, Thy hands their little force resign; Yet gently prest, press gently mine, My Mary!
Сторінка 16 - A man who has not been in Italy is always conscious of an inferiority, from his not having seen what it is expected a man should see. The grand object of travelling is to see the shores of the Mediterranean. On those shores were the four great empires of the world ; the Assyrian, the Persian, the Grecian, and the Roman. All our religion, almost all our law, almost all our arts, almost all that sets us above savages, has come to us from the shores of the Mediterranean.
Сторінка 275 - For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming ? for ye are our glory and joy,
Сторінка 151 - T was my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more ; My Mary ! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me...
Сторінка 151 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary ! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust disused, and shine no more, My Mary! For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil The same kind office for me still, Thy sight now seconds not thy will, My Mary ! But well thou play'dst the housewife's part, And all thy threads with magic art Have wound themselves about this heart, My Mary ! Thy indistinct expressions seem Like language uttered in a dream ; Yet me they charm, whate'er...
Сторінка 162 - Lady Hesketh's correspondence acquainted you with the melancholy relapse of our dear friend at Weston ; but I am uncertain whether you know, that in the last fortnight he has refused food of every kind, except now and then a very small piece of toasted bread dipped generally in water, sometimes mixed with a little wine.
Сторінка 224 - Nor, cruel as it seem'd, could he Their haste himself condemn, Aware that flight, in such a sea, Alone could rescue them ; Yet bitter felt it still to die Deserted, and his friends so nigh. He long survives, who lives an hour In ocean, self-upheld ; And so long he, with unspent power, His destiny repell'd ; And ever, as the minutes flew, Entreated help, or cried—
Сторінка 242 - Alban's, who is the very mirror of fidelity and affection for his master. And whereas the Turkish Spy says, he kept no servant, because he would not have an enemy in his house, I hired mine, because I would have a friend.
Сторінка 223 - Atlantic billows roared, When such a destined wretch as I, Washed headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left. No braver chief could Albion boast Than he with whom he went, Nor ever ship left Albion's coast With warmer wishes sent. He loved them both, but both in vain, Nor him beheld, nor her again. Not long beneath the whelming brine, Expert to swim, he lay ; Nor soon he felt his strength decline, Or courage die away ; But waged with death a lasting...