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]. |
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Сторінка 40
... sure that the little man's talent attached a dignity to him which effectually protected him from the courtiers ' ridicule . The King himself so highly appreciated his excellence as a painter , that he desired Vanderdoort , the keeper of ...
... sure that the little man's talent attached a dignity to him which effectually protected him from the courtiers ' ridicule . The King himself so highly appreciated his excellence as a painter , that he desired Vanderdoort , the keeper of ...
Сторінка 43
... sure returning , When the summer beams are burning , Hopes and flowers that , dead or dying , All the winter lay . Ah ! my heart is sore with sighing- Sighing for the May . Ah ! my heart is pained with throbbing- Throbbing for the May ...
... sure returning , When the summer beams are burning , Hopes and flowers that , dead or dying , All the winter lay . Ah ! my heart is sore with sighing- Sighing for the May . Ah ! my heart is pained with throbbing- Throbbing for the May ...
Сторінка 76
... sure M. Chaudieu would have no objection to an investment which , in addition to yielding double the interest that any ordinary speculation would produce , presents so many other advantages . Just remember that my trans- atlantic ships ...
... sure M. Chaudieu would have no objection to an investment which , in addition to yielding double the interest that any ordinary speculation would produce , presents so many other advantages . Just remember that my trans- atlantic ships ...
Сторінка 100
... , aunt , if I cannot do less than share your troubles , I cannot well do more can I ? " " Ah , Adelaide ! That sharing of troubles is a poor phrase , if you use it — as I am sure you do not , my dear - in 100 THE FAMILY SECRET .
... , aunt , if I cannot do less than share your troubles , I cannot well do more can I ? " " Ah , Adelaide ! That sharing of troubles is a poor phrase , if you use it — as I am sure you do not , my dear - in 100 THE FAMILY SECRET .
Сторінка 101
am sure you do not , my dear - in the common , hollow sentimental way . Nobody can share for nobody can feel or know - my distress . Remember I am his mother ! You never watched him daily — his speech , his looks , his gestures , from ...
am sure you do not , my dear - in the common , hollow sentimental way . Nobody can share for nobody can feel or know - my distress . Remember I am his mother ! You never watched him daily — his speech , his looks , his gestures , from ...
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
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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...