Old and new London: a narrative of its history, its people and its places, by W. Thornbury (E. Walford). (Google eBook)

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1880
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Page 341 - Oft of one wide expanse had I been told, That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 105 - He had been eight years upon a project for extracting sun-beams out of cucumbers, which were to be put into vials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm the air in raw inclement summers.
Page 262 - Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
Page 110 - Redress the rigours of the inclement clime ; Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain ; Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain : Teach him, that states of native strength...
Page 261 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Page 113 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Page 424 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free ; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Page 113 - I am afraid, Sir, such a number of us may be oppressive to you.' ' No, Sir,' said Johnson, ' it is not so ; and I must be in a wretched state indeed when your company would not be a delight to me.
Page 266 - This person was no other than the philanthropic bookseller in St Paul's Churchyard, who has written so many little books for children : he called himself their friend, but he was the friend of all mankind. He was no sooner alighted, but he was in haste to be gone ; for he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually compiling materials for the history of one Mr Thomas Trip.
Page 167 - He received me very courteously; but, it must be confessed, that his apartment, and furniture, and morning dress, were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little old shrivelled unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his shirt-neck and knees of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill drawn up ; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers.

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