The New Monthly Magazine and Literary Journal, Volym 45Henry Colburn and Company, 1835 |
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Sida 14
... dear sake . We do not say that it is the best , but we like it the best of Mr. Bulwer's works . It has an interest which every succeeding volume of his will increase , -it is , as it were , the early picture of his mind wherewith to ...
... dear sake . We do not say that it is the best , but we like it the best of Mr. Bulwer's works . It has an interest which every succeeding volume of his will increase , -it is , as it were , the early picture of his mind wherewith to ...
Sida 24
... by a quiet groan . 66 Hush , " whispered she , as if in addressing the patient she were drowning the noise of the door ; " Hush , dear William , are ye in pain ? " " No , I'm in no pain now , but 24 The Prison Inquest .
... by a quiet groan . 66 Hush , " whispered she , as if in addressing the patient she were drowning the noise of the door ; " Hush , dear William , are ye in pain ? " " No , I'm in no pain now , but 24 The Prison Inquest .
Sida 26
... dear ? who do you mean ? " said the wife , bending over him ; " this is our good clergyman , and as you were ill , I thought you might like to talk to him . " " Thank you , Ellen , " said the prisoner faintly , " I thought it was your ...
... dear ? who do you mean ? " said the wife , bending over him ; " this is our good clergyman , and as you were ill , I thought you might like to talk to him . " " Thank you , Ellen , " said the prisoner faintly , " I thought it was your ...
Sida 27
... dear ! Oh , mercy ! It's all me , " cried the woman despairingly , as she hurried to the water - jug , for the usual remedy for hysterics . The doctor held her back , - " Water will not do now , " said he , “ you must let nature take ...
... dear ! Oh , mercy ! It's all me , " cried the woman despairingly , as she hurried to the water - jug , for the usual remedy for hysterics . The doctor held her back , - " Water will not do now , " said he , “ you must let nature take ...
Sida 28
... dear , ' said he , I dreamt that old Wentworth Stokes was not dead , but that he had come home from over the seas and ' - ' My own dream , William ! My very own dream last night ; ' said I hastily ; and then the loud clap of thunder ...
... dear , ' said he , I dreamt that old Wentworth Stokes was not dead , but that he had come home from over the seas and ' - ' My own dream , William ! My very own dream last night ; ' said I hastily ; and then the loud clap of thunder ...
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Populära avsnitt
Sida 56 - 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.
Sida 63 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme, In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have express'd Even such a beauty as you master now.
Sida 65 - 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...
Sida 49 - 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.
Sida 59 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
Sida 63 - 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...
Sida 56 - 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. O, if...
Sida 51 - ... 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.
Sida 61 - Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd.
Sida 61 - from hate away she threw, And saved my life, saying—" not you." Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by these rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end ? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store...