Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
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ačt anxious aught awhile Birmingham blest blush boast bosom brave breast catch cheek Chelmsford close cold comfort controul cou’d crime daemon dear deed ditto dream e'en e'er E’en ev'ry evermore fair fancy fear feel fix’d fond form'd foul frame give grief hast thou hath heart Heaven hope hour I’ve indulg’d life's light maid man’s misery moping mortal nature's ne'er never night o'er objećt once pain pang pass'd passion peace Plain dealing pleasure poor pow'r praise pride prov’d repose scarce scene seldom sense shew shou'd shou’d sigh sink smile soft sorrow soul spirit spring strain strong sure sweet tear tender thee thine thought thro thy mind toil trust twere twill vice virtue warm ween wild wond’rous worth wou'd wou’d would'st wretched
Сторінка 288 - This above all, — to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Сторінка 288 - Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are most select and generous, chief in that.
Сторінка 14 - My trufty dog — that wiftful look " Is all that makes my poor heart heave ; " But hie thee home — proclaim me dead, " Forget to think — and ceafe to grieve.
Сторінка 15 - Thro' all his frame, he found to creep ; He knew not what it was to die, But knew his mafter did not ftecp.
Сторінка 15 - To meet his toil e'er morning light* ' And well his brain rememberd yet, He never patter'd tow'rds his bed ; Or lodg'd "his long face on his cheek, But ftraight he ftlrr'd, or rais'd his head. ' Yes, he remember'd, and with tears, His loving matter's kind replies; When dumbly he contriv'd to fay, " The cock has crow'd, my matter rife...
Сторінка 12 - Whate'er the time, whate'er the weather. Unlike to worldly friends were they, Who feparate in fortune's blaft — They ftill were near when fair the fky, But nearer ftill when overcaft.
Сторінка 9 - ... great master. There is one that we would particularly refer to, and that is "Shepherd Lubin." In size it is very small, but, like most of Bewick's pieces, sufficiently large to show the inimitable skill of the artist. The picture tells its own tale :— " Young Lubin was a shepherd's boy, Who watched a rigid master's sheep, And many a night was heard to sigh, And many a day was seen to weep.
Сторінка 9 - And many a day was feen to weep. ' For not a lambkin e'er was loft, Or wether ftray'd to field remote ; But Lubin ever was to blame, Nor careful he, nor penn'd his cote. Yet not a truftier lad was known, To climb the promontory's br.ow ; Nor yet a tenderer heart e'er beat, Beiide the brook in vale below.
Сторінка 9 - For not a lambkin e'er was loft, Or wether ftray'd to field remote ; But Lubin ever was to blame, Nor careful he, nor penn'd his cote. ' Yet not a tniftier lad was known, To climb the promontory's brow; Nor yet a tenderer heart e'er beat, Befide the brook in vale below. • From him ftern winter's drifting fnow, Its pelting fleet, or froft fevere ; Or fcorchiog fummer's fultry ray, Ne'er forc'da murmur, or a tear. ' For ah ! the varying feafons had To every hardship form'd his frame; Tho...