London Society, 32 tomasWilliam Clowes and Sons, 1877 |
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Adlerberg Ancona appeared asked Avranches beauty bottles called castle church Cinchona colour common lodging-house course cricket door Dora Duclair English Epernay eyes face fair father feel garden Gerard girl give hand happy Harfleur Harriette head heard heart Hilda hill horse hour Jasper John kind knew lady larvæ laugh leave Lescombe light live London look Lord Marchmont matter ment Meredith miles mind Miss Montivilliers morning ness never night once passed perhaps play pleasant present racter river round Sangatte seemed seen side Sir James Paget song Sophie sure Swallow's Nest sweet table d'hôte tell Theodore Theodore Marston thing thought tion to-night took town turned voice Von Zbirow W. G. Grace walk whilst wife wine words young Zbirow
Populiarios ištraukos
237 psl. - You are old, Father William,' the young man said, 'And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head - Do you think, at your age, it is right?' 'In my youth,' Father William replied to his son, 'I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.
558 psl. - Thither have been carried, through successive ages, by the rude hands of gaolers, without one mourner following, the bleeding relics of men who had been the captains of armies, the leaders of parties, the oracles of senates, and the ornaments of courts.
237 psl. - And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
237 psl. - You are old,' said the youth, 'and your jaws are too weak For anything tougher than suet; Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak - Pray how did you manage to do it?
240 psl. - Home they brought her sailor son, Grown a man across the sea, Tall and broad and black of beard, And hoarse of voice as man may be. Hand to shake and mouth to kiss, Both he offered ere he spoke ; But she said — " What man is this Comes to play a sorry joke? " Then they praised him — call'd him " smart," " Tightest lad that ever stept ; " But her son she did not know, And she neither smiled nor wept.
200 psl. - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
559 psl. - of the waiting-rooms of the Opera House, was seated a woman of fashionable appearance, still beautiful, but not " in the bloom of beauty's pride ; " she was not noticed, except by the eye of pity.
238 psl. - I'm bad at riddles; But I know where little girls are sent For telling taradiddles. "Now, if you don't reform," said I, "You'll never go to heaven." But all in vain; each time I try, That little idiot makes reply, "I ain't had more nor seven!" POSTSCRIPT: To borrow Wordsworth's name was wrong, Or slightly misapplied ; And so I'd better call my song "Lines after Ache-inside.
239 psl. - My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mistranslated.
204 psl. - Enfant! si j'étais roi, je donnerais l'empire, Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon peuple à genoux, Et ma couronne d'or, et mes bains de porphyre, Et mes flottes, à qui la mer ne peut suffire, Pour un regard de vous!