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Сторінка 97 - Look here, upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury...
Сторінка 100 - Heigho, says Rowley, Whether his mother would let him or no. With a rowley powley, gammon, and spinach, Heigho, says Anthony Rowley!
Сторінка 158 - Princes and lords may flourish and may fade, A breath can make them as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.
Сторінка 183 - Princes and peers may flourish or may fade, A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, a country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied.
Сторінка 203 - ... Did you ever hope that Greece would ever free itself in your day? — They do not intend to attempt Constantinople unless the Turks should think of a massacre & then they hope to be prepared for them. I am sorry you did not so arrange you[r] affairs as to be able to pay us a visit here — It is now a very long time since I have had the pleasure of seeing you nor can I guess how much more time you will allow to elapse before you visit us.
Сторінка 113 - Lamb, in his essay on The Artificial Comedy of the Last Century...
Сторінка 18 - With full maternal powers contrived To rear a buzzing brood, But who, from childhood's dawn, deprived Of elbow-room and food, And labour-doom'd, must aye forego A mother's joy and care — The fate of luckless females who Go early out to " chair ! ") I Ve mused upon the busy bee, I Ve watch'd her ways of late ; I Ve mark'd the social theory That rules the apian state.
Сторінка 107 - Yard, must still be fresh in the recollection of many of our readers.
Сторінка 24 - Ahundant hread and honey. Let winter come ; the task is done ! Of peace sets in the reign ; When, lo ! invasion's booming gun Is heard across the plain. The grim resistless conqueror comes Encased in sting-proof mail, The match is lit, the fortress hums But why prolong the tale ? Fell, sulph'rous smoke the homestead chars, Dead bodies strew the ground ; Spoilt honey sells, in earthen jars, At tcnpencefor the pound!
Сторінка 120 - It was the best thing he could have done under the circumstances.

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