The works of John Moore. With memoirs of his life and writings, by R. Anderson, Volume 51820 |
Common terms and phrases
acquaintance affected answer appeared attended beauty begged behaviour Bertram brother Buchanan Captain Seidlits Carlostein CHAPTER character child chivalry colonel conceal conduct continued convinced cried Zeluco daugh daughter dear desire disposition endeavoured esteem expressed eyes Father Mulo Father Pedro favour fond fortune gave George Buchanan give happiness heard heart heaven hint honour hope husband imagined immediately informed Italy knew Lady Elizabeth Laura leave letter luco Madame de Seidlits maid manner marriage ment mentioned mind mistress mother Mount Vesuvius Naples nature Nerina never obliged observed occasion opinion Palermo passion perceived person physician pleasure Portuguese portunity present racter reason received render replied romance seemed Seidlits's sentiments servant shewed Signor Zeluco Signora Sporza sister slaves soldier soon spirit Steele surgeon surprised Targe ther thing Thomas Warton thought tion told Troubadours uneasiness valet wife wish woman wound young lady Zelu
Popular passages
Page 350 - Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; And e'en those ills, that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
Page 525 - And where no wants, no wishes can remain, Since but to wish more Virtue is to gain.
Page 50 - He had employed his mind chiefly upon works of fiction and subjects of fancy, and by indulging some peculiar habits of thought was eminently delighted with those flights of imagination which pass the bounds of nature, and to which the mind is reconciled only by a passive acquiescence in popular traditions. He loved fairies, genii, giants, and monsters; he delighted to rove through the meanders of enchantment, to gaze on the magnificence of golden palaces, to repose by the waterfalls of Elysian gardens.
Page 123 - Merciful Heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Page 465 - Shame that skulks behind; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, Or Jealousy with rankling tooth That inly gnaws the secret heart, And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-visaged comfortless Despair, And Sorrow's piercing dart.
Page 442 - Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 176 - Rental, a baronet with a thumping estate, fell in love with her, and she fell in love with him. So my uncle altered his mind, as it was very natural he should, you Know, and agreed to this new match.
Page 54 - Was there ever yet any thing written by mere man that was wished longer by its readers, excepting ' Don Quixote,' ' Robinson Crusoe,' and the 'Pilgrim's Progress?'" After Homer's " Iliad," Mr. Johnson confessed that the work of Cervantes was the greatest in the world, speaking of it I mean as a book of entertainment...
Page 250 - With tract oblique At first, as one who sought access, but fear'd To interrupt, sidelong he works his way.
Page 72 - With every pleasing, every prudent part, Say, what can Chloe want ?" — She wants a heart. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought ; But never, never reach'd one generous thought. Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, Content to dwell in decencies for ever. So very reasonable, so unmov'd, As never yet to love, or to be lov'd.