Modern London; or, London as it is [by P. Cunningham]. [10 eds. Title varies].

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Сторінка 43 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Сторінка 105 - twould a saint provoke" (Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke), " No, let a charming chintz, and Brussels lace Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face : One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead — And, Betty, give this cheek a little red.
Сторінка 103 - The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier; O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, 'Here let their discord with them die. Speak not for those a separate doom Whom fate made Brothers in the tomb; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen?
Сторінка 143 - And here I prophesy, — This brawl to-day, Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Сторінка 108 - Miltono secundus, was exhibited to Dr. Sprat, then dean of Westminster, he refused to admit it ; the name of Milton was, in his opinion, too detestable to be read on the wall of a building dedicated to devotion.
Сторінка 143 - Let him that is a true-born gentleman, And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
Сторінка 244 - I give to the master and keepers or wardens and commonalty of the mystery or art of a stationer of the city of London...
Сторінка 244 - Nigh where Fleet Ditch descends in sable streams, To wash his sooty Naiads in the Thames, There stands a structure on a rising hill. Where tyros take their freedom out to kill.
Сторінка 90 - ... imperishable renown; not, as in our humblest churches and churchyards, with everything that is most endearing in social and domestic charities ; but with whatever is darkest in human nature and in human destiny, with the savage triumph of implacable enemies, with the inconstancy, the ingratitude, the cowardice of friends, with all the miseries of fallen greatness and of blighted fame.
Сторінка 125 - Whereunto the Clerk replying wrote : ' Children of Cheape, hold you all still, For you shall have the Bow Bell rung at your will.

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