Brallaghan: Or The DeipnosophistsE. Churton, 1845 - 336 стор. |
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Сторінка 1
... in fact enjoyin all the refined pleasures of existence with Lords , and Dooks , and Mark- isses , and the rest of the curled darlints that has plinty o ' money and nothin to do . A third BARNEY BRALLAGHAN'S LETTER TO OLIVER YORKE.
... in fact enjoyin all the refined pleasures of existence with Lords , and Dooks , and Mark- isses , and the rest of the curled darlints that has plinty o ' money and nothin to do . A third BARNEY BRALLAGHAN'S LETTER TO OLIVER YORKE.
Сторінка 3
... Lord Byrom sneeringly cauld it , hadn't been quite exhausted ; and we had no childher , only one a coming . At present I have 9 small babbies , ( which Judy tells me is railly my own , ) to support ; hard enuff be gogsty I finds it to ...
... Lord Byrom sneeringly cauld it , hadn't been quite exhausted ; and we had no childher , only one a coming . At present I have 9 small babbies , ( which Judy tells me is railly my own , ) to support ; hard enuff be gogsty I finds it to ...
Сторінка 6
... Lord be praised , neither chick nor child , nor wife , nor any other encumbrance , baggige , or botheration , so that I thravelled about the counthry with my masther like a rovin ' tinker as happy as the days is long and it was at this ...
... Lord be praised , neither chick nor child , nor wife , nor any other encumbrance , baggige , or botheration , so that I thravelled about the counthry with my masther like a rovin ' tinker as happy as the days is long and it was at this ...
Сторінка 7
... Lord be merciful to his sowl ! ) did but occasionally kill a parson , and justasses of the pace was only now and then roastid alive for amusemint . Praching bulks and saints was skatthered up and down as thick as daisies thro ' the ...
... Lord be merciful to his sowl ! ) did but occasionally kill a parson , and justasses of the pace was only now and then roastid alive for amusemint . Praching bulks and saints was skatthered up and down as thick as daisies thro ' the ...
Сторінка 16
... Lord Byron . Their bitterness is , however , inexcusable ; for Mahony is far from being the gentleman they profess to satirise . Few men have more talents . and no man has less humbug , than Father Frank ; and whatever may be our ...
... Lord Byron . Their bitterness is , however , inexcusable ; for Mahony is far from being the gentleman they profess to satirise . Few men have more talents . and no man has less humbug , than Father Frank ; and whatever may be our ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
Achilles Tatius afther aiquil Anacreon Ballinamona oro Barney beauty bliss BOYLE Brallaghan breast Brian O'Linn bright bright eyes bright-ey'd wine Castle Hyde charms Colla bella coorse Cork Croker Cupid darlint dear Deipnosophist Club delight divine Doctor Dreams drink enuff eyes fair Father Prout flowers Freeholder Grake hath heart Heaven Hood Irish potheen Judy kiss ladies larned laughing lips LITTLE'S POEMS look Lord Maginn MARY GENTLE MILLIKIN Misther MOORE MOORE'S MELODIES never night nose nymph o'er once ould Philostratus Plagiarism poet poor preesht Prout punch Quæ rose rosy round SABERTASH shine sing SIR JOHN SUCKLING smile song soul spirit stars sweet tell thee thine thou thought thrue Tom Hood Tom Moore Venus whin whiskey WILLIAM MAGINN young γαρ δε εν εστι και μεν μοι Ου τε Ω Λινν
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 298 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Сторінка 209 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Сторінка 298 - A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty, Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.
Сторінка 302 - DUKE'S PALACE. [Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.] DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Сторінка 306 - If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.
Сторінка 314 - WHEN Time, who steals our years away, Shall steal our pleasures too, The memory of the past will stay, And half our joys renew.
Сторінка 327 - No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace, As I have seen in one autumnal face.
Сторінка 331 - Thus sung they in the English boat, A holy and a cheerful Note, And all the way, to guide their Chime, With falling Oars they kept the time.
Сторінка 309 - Although men are accused for not knowing their own weakness, yet perhaps as few know their own strength. It is in men as in soils, where sometimes there is a vein of gold, which the owner knows not of.
Сторінка 133 - No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close ; As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turned when he rose.