The British Essayists: With Prefaces Biographical, Historical and Critical, 25–26 tomaiT. and J. Allman, 1823 |
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23 psl.
... look with little attention upon scenes thus perpetually changing , who cannot catch some of the figures before they are made vulgar by reiterated descriptions . It has been discovered by Sir Isaac Newton , that the distinct and ...
... look with little attention upon scenes thus perpetually changing , who cannot catch some of the figures before they are made vulgar by reiterated descriptions . It has been discovered by Sir Isaac Newton , that the distinct and ...
32 psl.
... looks about ! Believe me , Sir , It carries a brave form . But ' tis a spirit . Her imagining that as he was so beautiful he must necessarily be one of her father's aërial agents , is a stroke of nature worthy admiration as are likewise ...
... looks about ! Believe me , Sir , It carries a brave form . But ' tis a spirit . Her imagining that as he was so beautiful he must necessarily be one of her father's aërial agents , is a stroke of nature worthy admiration as are likewise ...
33 psl.
... look wearily . It is by selecting such little , and almost imperceptible circumstances , that Shakspeare has more truly paint- ed the passions than any other writer : affection is more powerfully expressed by this simple wish and offer ...
... look wearily . It is by selecting such little , and almost imperceptible circumstances , that Shakspeare has more truly paint- ed the passions than any other writer : affection is more powerfully expressed by this simple wish and offer ...
49 psl.
... look with confidence in the face of the person to whom I spoke . About this time my father's elder brother died , and left me an estate of near five hundred pounds per annum . I now bought out the remainder of my time ; and this sudden ...
... look with confidence in the face of the person to whom I spoke . About this time my father's elder brother died , and left me an estate of near five hundred pounds per annum . I now bought out the remainder of my time ; and this sudden ...
55 psl.
... look , Cut thy banks to dam thy brook ; Barefoot may no neighbour wade In thy cool streams , wife or maid , When the spawn on stones do lie , To wash their hemp , and spoil the fry . The glaring picture of Paradise is not , in my ...
... look , Cut thy banks to dam thy brook ; Barefoot may no neighbour wade In thy cool streams , wife or maid , When the spawn on stones do lie , To wash their hemp , and spoil the fry . The glaring picture of Paradise is not , in my ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The British Essayists– With Preface Biographical and Critical, 45 tomas Lionel Thomas Berguer Visos knygos peržiūra - 1823 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
acquainted ADVENTURER Almerine amusement ancient appearance bagnio beauty character CHARLES HANBURY WILLIAMS Clodio considered Corsica daugh daughter disappointed discovered distress dreadful dress elegant endeavoured entertain equal Euripides evil excel eyes fashion father favour fear Felicia felicity FITZ-ADAM Flavilla folly fortune frequently Fretters gentleman give Glastonbury thorn happiness heart Hilario honour hope humble servant humour imagination kind king knew labour lady less lived look Lord Lord CHESTERFIELD Madam mankind manner marriage Menander ment Mercator mind misery nature ness never night obliged observed paper passion perhaps person pity pleasure Posidippus pounds present Quintilian racter readers reason RICHARD OWEN CAMBRIDGE ridicule ROBERT DODSLEY Shelimah shew SOAME JENYNS Soliman sometimes soon suffered sure taste thee thing thou thought tion told truth virtue wife WILLIAM PULTENEY Wilson wish wretch writer
Populiarios ištraukos
26 psl. - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
8 psl. - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
138 psl. - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
139 psl. - Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind ; says suum, mun ha no nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy ; sessa ! let him trot by. [Storm still. LEAK. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.
179 psl. - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward ; and, to deal plainly, I fear, I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks, I should know you, and know this man ; Yet I am doubtful : for I am mainly ignorant What place this is : and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments ; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night : Do not laugh at me ; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
179 psl. - Mine enemy's dog, Though he had bit me, should have stood that night Against my fire ; and wast thou fain, poor father, To hovel thee with swine, and rogues forlorn, In short and musty straw? Alack, alack!
53 psl. - In the midst of the street of it and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month ; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
180 psl. - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir.
8 psl. - Tis he, who gives my breast a thousand pains, Can make me feel each passion that he feigns; Enrage, compose, with more than magic art ; With pity, and with terror, tear my heart ; And snatch me, o'er the earth, or through the air, To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
179 psl. - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.