The Romance of Private Life


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Sida 29 - Ye winds, that have made me your sport, Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more. My friends , — do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me? O tell me I yet have a friend, Though a friend I am never to see.
Sida 108 - This is the prettiest low-born lass, that ever Ran on the green sward ; nothing she does, or seems, But smacks of something greater than herself; Too noble for this place.
Sida 296 - I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her.
Sida 3 - I partly think A due sincerity governed his deeds, Till he did look on me: since it is so, Let him not die... My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died....
Sida 250 - Fly fishing may be a very pleasant amusement ; but angling or float fishing, I can only compare to a stick and a string, with a worm at one end, and a, fool at the other.
Sida 66 - From women's eyes this doctrine I derive : They are the ground, the books, the academes, From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire." • '* •*••••• " For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye ? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, Aud where we are our learning likewise is; Then when ourselves we see in ladies...
Sida 180 - Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing ? " His feelings, disturbed on this one point, shook his judgment off its balance on another.
Sida 131 - ... pursy times, Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg ; Yea, curb and woo, for leave to do him good. SHAKSPEARE. Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, And vice sometimes by action's dignified. SHAKSPEARE. Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount, Her nat'ral graces that extinguish art. SHAKSPEARE. If I'm traduced by tongues that neither know My faculties nor person ; 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through.
Sida 177 - This virgin by the hand, and call her wife, Endowed with all my fortunes. Bless me so, Requite me thus, and make me happier, In joining my poor empty name to yours, Than if my 'state were multiplied tenfold. Char. Is this the payment, sir, that you expect Í Why, you precipitate me more in debt, That nothing but my life can ever pay.
Sida 126 - Agnes, by what to her was strange, may occasionally come under review ; but so much has of late years been written on the subject of Italy — and so well, that it would be a vain attempt to add any thing new to the picture.

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