The Englishwoman's domestic magazine. [Imperf. With] Supplemental fashions & needlework [afterw.] Patterns, fashions & needlework [and] Designs for fashions and needlework [Continued as The Illustrated household journal and English- woman's domestic magazine]. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 100
Сторінка 7
... heart . That last reflection , however , is mine , not Miss Leeson's . She , poor little dear , had merely a dim consciousness of the fact - a consciousness she shrank from encouraging , though , in truth , it was the only solace she ...
... heart . That last reflection , however , is mine , not Miss Leeson's . She , poor little dear , had merely a dim consciousness of the fact - a consciousness she shrank from encouraging , though , in truth , it was the only solace she ...
Сторінка 8
... heart - are slowly approaching the same spot ; and , just as Lotty enters the Brierly plantation from the south end , Adelaide enters it from the north . Not the least curiosity is apparent in Miss Dacre's demeanour— she is a mere ...
... heart - are slowly approaching the same spot ; and , just as Lotty enters the Brierly plantation from the south end , Adelaide enters it from the north . Not the least curiosity is apparent in Miss Dacre's demeanour— she is a mere ...
Сторінка 10
... heart , and not one was left to give life to her face . It was pitifully pale and passionless , and her eyes , that saw not , were addressed to the ground . Herbert was not the man to stand this . His countenance burst into a flame at ...
... heart , and not one was left to give life to her face . It was pitifully pale and passionless , and her eyes , that saw not , were addressed to the ground . Herbert was not the man to stand this . His countenance burst into a flame at ...
Сторінка 43
... heart is weary waiting- Waiting for the May . Ah ! my heart is sick with longing- Longing for the May- Longing to escape from study To the young face , fair and ruddy , And the thousand charms belonging To the summer's day . Ah ! my ...
... heart is weary waiting- Waiting for the May . Ah ! my heart is sick with longing- Longing for the May- Longing to escape from study To the young face , fair and ruddy , And the thousand charms belonging To the summer's day . Ah ! my ...
Сторінка 45
... heart , and both Tom and his father are resolved to remove the disgrace of debt by years of manful energy . Time goes by . Maggie is now seventeen . Her form has developed into queenly proportions . Long intervals of silent , solitary ...
... heart , and both Tom and his father are resolved to remove the disgrace of debt by years of manful energy . Time goes by . Maggie is now seventeen . Her form has developed into queenly proportions . Long intervals of silent , solitary ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adelaide answer appeared asked aunt beautiful Berlin Wool black lace black velvet body bonnet called captain Celestine Charlotte Chaudieu child colour crêpe Crespel cried dear DOMESTIC MAGAZINE Don Pasquale door dress England eyes face fashion fastened father flounces flowers front gentleman girl give gold green Grétry Grippermore hand happy head heart Henry VIII Herbert honour hour husband King Laboissière Lady Grovelly leave letter look Lotty Lotty's Madame Mademoiselle Bailleul marriage married mind Miss Dacre month morning mother muslin narrow never night passed perhaps poor present pretty puffings replied ribbon rose round ruche sea-kale side silk skirt sleeves smile Sophronius Soup suppose tarlatan Teissier tell thing thou thought took trimmed tulle turned Valenciennes lace voice wife Wilson woman words worn young lady
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 175 - ANNOUNCED by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house 'at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Сторінка 36 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread...
Сторінка 174 - All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice in games Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures, — the resounding horn, The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.
Сторінка 275 - I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them; Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.
Сторінка 82 - How oft, at school, with most believing mind, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, To watch that fluttering stranger ! and as oft With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower, Whose bells, the poor man's only music, rang From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day, So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear Most like articulate sounds of things to come...
Сторінка 206 - Edward, by the grace of God, king of England, lord of Ireland, and duke of Aquitaine, to all those that these present letters shall hear or see, greeting.
Сторінка 82 - Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon.
Сторінка 95 - Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Сторінка 82 - Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not; Only that film, which fluttered on the grate, Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit By its own moods interprets, everywhere Echo or mirror seeking of itself, And makes a toy of Thought.
Сторінка 81 - From dewy sward or thorny spray; All the heaped Autumn's wealth, With a still, mysterious stealth: She will mix these pleasures up Like three fit wines in a cup...