Autobiography, letters and literary remains of mrs. Piozzi, ed., with notes, by A. Hayward, Том 2

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Сторінка 383 - How happy is the blameless vestal's lot ? The world forgetting, by the world forgot...
Сторінка 88 - ... it would be hard to find a man so well entitled to notice by his wit that ever delighted so much in talking of his money.
Сторінка 98 - I know, cries Death, that at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captious, friend, at least; I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length, I wish you joy though of your strength. Hold, says the farmer, not so fast, I have been lame these four years past. And no great wonder...
Сторінка 47 - Live while you live, the Epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day. Live while you live, the sacred Preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies.
Сторінка 97 - Nor once perceived his growing old, Nor thought of Death as near; His friends not false, his wife no shrew, Many his gains, his children few, He...
Сторінка 291 - In some lone isle, or distant northern land; Where the gilt chariot never marks the way, Where none learn ombre, none e'er taste bohea!
Сторінка 72 - ... read for pleasure or accomplishment, and who buy the numerous products of modern typography, the number was then comparatively small. To prove the paucity of readers, it may be sufficient to remark, that the nation had been satisfied from 1623 to 166'4, that is, fortyone years, with only two editions of the works of Shakespeare, which probably did not together make one thousand copies.
Сторінка 46 - Atheist for her guide? Is Science by a blockhead to be led? Are states to totter on a drunkard's head? To answer all these purposes, and more, More black than ever villain plann'd before, Search earth, search hell, the devil cannot find An agent like Lothario to his mind.
Сторінка 109 - While th' inflammable temper, the positive tongue, Too conscious of right for endurance of wrong : We suffer from JOHNSON, contented to find, That some notice we gain from so noble a mind ; And pardon our hurts, since so often we've found The balm of instruction pour'd into the wound. 'Tis thus for its virtues the chemists...
Сторінка 97 - But while he viewed his wealth increase, While thus along Life's dusty road The beaten track content he trod, Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, Uncalled, unheeded, unawares, Brought on his eightieth year.

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