Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart, Том 1

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Сторінка 13 - Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a : A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Сторінка 36 - Edinburgh : but (considering what literary emoluments have been since his day) the efforts made for his relief were extremely trifling. " I remember on this occasion I mention, I thought...
Сторінка 353 - I make no doubt,' said he, * when Maida is alone with these young dogs, he throws gravity aside, and plays the boy as much as any of them ; but he is ashamed to do so in our company, and seems to say — Ha...
Сторінка 4 - ... worthy clergyman of the parish, Dr. Duncan, who had not patience to have a sober chat interrupted by my shouting forth this ditty. Methinks I now see his tall thin emaciated figure, his legs cased in clasped gambadoes, and his face of a length that would have rivalled the Knight of La Mancha's, and hear him exclaiming, " One may as well speak in the mouth of a cannon as where that child is.
Сторінка 36 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large and of a dark cast, which glowed, I say literally glowed, when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head, though I have seen the most distinguished men of my time.
Сторінка 36 - Childish wonder, indeed, was an ingredient in my delight, for I was not above fifteen years old ; and as this had been the first excursion which I was permitted to make on a pony of my own, I also experienced the glow of independence, mingled with that degree of anxiety which the most conceited boy feels when he is first abandoned to his own undirected counsels...
Сторінка 190 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.
Сторінка 127 - ... a rattle-sculled half-lawyer, half-sportsman, through whose head a regiment of horse has been exercising since he was five years old...
Сторінка 66 - Ah me! for aught that ever I could read. Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Her.
Сторінка 256 - I have been watching it, — it fascinates my eye, it never stops — page after page is finished and thrown on that heap of MS., and still it goes on unwearied, — and so it will be till candles are brought in, and God knows how long after that. It is the same every night, I can't stand the sight of it, when I am not at my books.

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