The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, Том 35

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Joseph Rogerson

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Сторінка 51 - They stole little Bridget For seven years long ; "When she 'came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow.
Сторінка 288 - LOVING in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,— Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain, — I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain, Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburnt brain.
Сторінка 52 - When she 'came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since Deep within the lakes, On a bed of flag-leaves, Watching till she wakes.
Сторінка 311 - When Nature was shaping him, clay was not granted For making so full-sized a man as she wanted, So, to fill out her model, a little she spared From some finer-grained stuff for a woman prepared, And she could not have hit a more excellent plan For making him fully and perfectly man.
Сторінка 52 - He shall find their sharpest thorns In his bed at night. Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men ; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather!
Сторінка 180 - Her court was pure; her life serene; God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed In her as Mother, Wife, and Queen...
Сторінка 74 - Tis good to be off with the old love Before you are on with the new 1" The party which sat down to dinner at Hazlehnrst Grange on that day was a very seleet one.
Сторінка 311 - Tis as if a rough oak that for ages had stood, With his gnarled bony branches like ribs of the wood. Should bloom, after cycles of struggle and scathe, With a single anemone trembly and rathe ; His strength is so tender, his...
Сторінка 309 - I pray you Master Lieutenant, see me safe up, and for my coming down let me shift for myself.
Сторінка 286 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!

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