The Eton Bureau, Nummers 1-6Ingalton and Son, 1842 |
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Pagina 35
... gentle reader , the feelings with which I saw a new favourite installed in the place of the deceased . Those who have never had a ferret in their insides , cannot estimate the depth of my despair . My spirit was broken . Sealing wax had ...
... gentle reader , the feelings with which I saw a new favourite installed in the place of the deceased . Those who have never had a ferret in their insides , cannot estimate the depth of my despair . My spirit was broken . Sealing wax had ...
Pagina 75
... c . , & c . , seemed to intimate that the writer had hardly made up his mind whether to drown himself in Barne's - pool , or inflict summary chastisement on un- offending me . 66 Gentle reader , pity me ; alas , too ETON BUREAU . 75.
... c . , & c . , seemed to intimate that the writer had hardly made up his mind whether to drown himself in Barne's - pool , or inflict summary chastisement on un- offending me . 66 Gentle reader , pity me ; alas , too ETON BUREAU . 75.
Pagina 76
66 Gentle reader , pity me ; alas , too well I guessed its contents ; I remembered that in No. I. I had inserted a letter from a pseudo - anti - football - player , in which too many of my penetrating readers had discovered sundry cuts ...
66 Gentle reader , pity me ; alas , too well I guessed its contents ; I remembered that in No. I. I had inserted a letter from a pseudo - anti - football - player , in which too many of my penetrating readers had discovered sundry cuts ...
Pagina 88
... gentle beams , than when the sun Drives in mid domination thro ' the heaven . For Passion's voice dies in the aged breast , Leaving the mind to meditation free , And holiest thoughts of scenes beyond the grave . So Simeon , waiting for ...
... gentle beams , than when the sun Drives in mid domination thro ' the heaven . For Passion's voice dies in the aged breast , Leaving the mind to meditation free , And holiest thoughts of scenes beyond the grave . So Simeon , waiting for ...
Pagina 93
... gentle maid , Thy spiritual victory- Only believe he hath obeyed , And with thy guidance will comply , When time hath fused on every sense That stream of silent influence . -Woe , woe ! it may not be - for now Up the sky dark vapours ...
... gentle maid , Thy spiritual victory- Only believe he hath obeyed , And with thy guidance will comply , When time hath fused on every sense That stream of silent influence . -Woe , woe ! it may not be - for now Up the sky dark vapours ...
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Æneid Apollonius Rhodius barque beauty better breath bright Burton calm castle Catullus character charm child clouds dare dark dear death doth earth Eton Bureau Etonians evil eyes fair faith fancy fear feelings gaze gentle George Morland Georgics give grace grave Gwendolen hand happy hath heard heart heaven Herstmonceux holy honour hope King knew Ladon leave light live look Lord Byron Lord Dacre Lycophron Menedemus mind nature never night o'er once passed perhaps Phormio poet poor prayer Procles Puddletown readers round scarce scene scorn seemed shame shew shuffler sigh similes smile soft song sorrow soul spirit stream sure sweet tears tell thee things thou thought told TOMMY GREEN truth Unterwalden verse Virgil waves wind Windsor Castle words write young youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 316 - 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...
Pagina 274 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
Pagina 229 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things : There is no armour against fate : Death lays his icy hands on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Pagina 267 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Pagina 187 - Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Pagina 143 - Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth...
Pagina 265 - Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me : the brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent any thing that tends to laughter*, more than I invent, or is invented on me : I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
Pagina 335 - THE POET'S SONG. THE rain had fallen, the Poet arose, He pass'd by the town and out of the street, A light wind blew from the gates of the sun, And waves of shadow went over the wheat, And he sat him down in a lonely place, And chanted a melody loud and sweet, That made the wild-swan pause in her cloud, And the lark drop down at his feet.
Pagina 229 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim bleeds. Your heads must come To the cold tomb: Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom...
Pagina 114 - The youth, he cried, whom I exiled Shall be restored to woo her. She's at the window many an hour His coming to discover: And he look'd up to Ellen's bower And she look'd on her lover — But ah! so pale, he knew her not, Though her smile on him was dwelling — And am I then forgot — forgot? It broke the heart of Ellen. In vain he weeps, in vain he sighs, Her...