New Monthly Magazine, and Universal Register, Том 45Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Ainsworth, William Harrison Ainsworth Henry Colburn, 1835 |
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Сторінка 3
... hand as if to arrest us in our path . " What does he say ? " I asked of Maimuna . " He repeats a verse of the Koran ... hands crossed over his breast , and the folds of his girdle stuck full of flowers . He might have been asleep , for ...
... hand as if to arrest us in our path . " What does he say ? " I asked of Maimuna . " He repeats a verse of the Koran ... hands crossed over his breast , and the folds of his girdle stuck full of flowers . He might have been asleep , for ...
Сторінка 8
... hand on the pommel to dismount , but the gipsy , anticipating her motion , touched his horse with the stirrup , and ... hand , and put it to his lips . " You agree to our compact , then ? " I asked . He put his hand to his forehead , and ...
... hand on the pommel to dismount , but the gipsy , anticipating her motion , touched his horse with the stirrup , and ... hand , and put it to his lips . " You agree to our compact , then ? " I asked . He put his hand to his forehead , and ...
Сторінка 10
... hand , which I stretched instinctively to receive her , " I am breaking my heart ; I know not what to do . " At this ... hands buried in her long hair , pressed her to my heart , that beat as painfully · and as heavily as her own . A ...
... hand , which I stretched instinctively to receive her , " I am breaking my heart ; I know not what to do . " At this ... hands buried in her long hair , pressed her to my heart , that beat as painfully · and as heavily as her own . A ...
Сторінка 11
... hand ? Jove ! I forgive ' em . Countess . What ! Señor Juan ? Juan . Now , who calls on me ? Countess . Your friend , Sir . Juan . Madam - Countess- Countess . I have err'd Juan . Against the dignity of a noble soul , And come to pray ...
... hand ? Jove ! I forgive ' em . Countess . What ! Señor Juan ? Juan . Now , who calls on me ? Countess . Your friend , Sir . Juan . Madam - Countess- Countess . I have err'd Juan . Against the dignity of a noble soul , And come to pray ...
Сторінка 15
... hand ; but Algernon Mordaunt is the triumph - we feel the better for dwelling on such nobleness of nature . Mr. Bulwer has , however , somewhat idealised the poverty . He writes as one who has never experienced it . We doubt whether it ...
... hand ; but Algernon Mordaunt is the triumph - we feel the better for dwelling on such nobleness of nature . Mr. Bulwer has , however , somewhat idealised the poverty . He writes as one who has never experienced it . We doubt whether it ...
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admirable Algerine Algiers appearance Arab beautiful believe better Bill Burnett called Captain cent character colour corn-laws Czartoryski daugh daughter dear duty Elliston England English exclaimed eyes favour feeling feet France French gentleman give Grace Gray green hand head heart Hobbleday honour hope human interest Ireland Janissaries Jews John Kabyles lady land late Little-Pedlington Liverpool living London look Lord Lord Byron Maimuna manner marriage Mathews matter miles mind Moorish Moscow nature never night noble observed once opinion Orange Lodges passed persons poet poetry Poland poor present Princess racter reader replied Russian scarcely scene seemed seen Serjeant Talfourd Shakspeare Sonnet Spain spirit Staffordshire sure Tatars tell theatre thing thou thought tion town uncle whole woman word young Zumalacarregui
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Сторінка 47 - Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glistering foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies, But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.
Сторінка 58 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Сторінка 69 - Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Сторінка 67 - To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah ! yet...
Сторінка 51 - And summer's lease hath all too short a date ; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd ; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd. But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest.
Сторінка 67 - A WOMAN'S face with Nature's own hand painted Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion; An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; A man in hue all hues in his controlling, Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
Сторінка 65 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Сторінка 55 - Tired with all these, for restful death I cry — As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority...
Сторінка 60 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising. Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember' d such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Сторінка 53 - ... an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intense study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after times as they should not willingly let it die.