Reginald Dalton, Том 1

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W. Blackwood, 1823 - Всего страниц: 337

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Стр. 145 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Стр. 145 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition , sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn ; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Стр. 130 - There is no antidote against the opium of time, which temporally considereth all things : our fathers find their graves in our short memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in our survivors.
Стр. 24 - Tis one of those who needs must leave the path Of the world's business to go wild alone: His arms have a perpetual holiday ; The happy man will creep about the fields, Following his fancies by the hour, to bring Tears down his cheek, or solitary smiles Into his face, until the setting sun Write fool upon his forehead.
Стр. 264 - DO serious consequences ever attached or attributed to their occurrence. •}• " But to our story. Chisney and his companions, the wine of the Black Bear of Woodstock still fuming in their brains, were soon in the midst of the retreating togati ; and our friend Reginald, drest in the splendid attire of a Doctor of Physic, could scarcely, under all the circumstances, be blamed for following their guidance. Jem Brank stuck close to the party, wielding in his fist the fine goldlieaded cane of Mr Alderman...
Стр. 237 - We heard it quite distinctly, though the mist was so thick that we could see nothing. I cried then ; you may suppose how I cried ; and Ellen too, though she had never opened her lips before, cried as lustily as she could. Again the gun was fired, and again we answered at the top of our voices ; and then, God bless me ! — was there ever such a moment ? We heard the dashing of the oars, and a strong breeze lifted the mist like a curtain from before us, and there was a boat — a jolly ten-oar boat,...
Стр. 329 - When the chill Sirocco blows, And Winter tells a heavy tale, When pyes and daws, and rooks and crows, Do sit and curse the frosts and snows, Then give me ale,
Стр. 215 - KING'S COLLEGE CHAPEL, CAMBRIDGE TAX not the royal Saint with vain expense, With ill-match'd aims the Architect who plann'd (Albeit labouring for a scanty band Of white-robed Scholars only) this immense And glorious work of fine intelligence ! — Give all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely-calculated less or more : — So deem'd the man who fashion'd for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-poised, and scoop'd into ten thousand cells Where light...
Стр. 264 - It was now that a terrible conflict ensued — a conflict, the fury of which might have inspired lightness, vigour, and elasticity, even into the paragraphs of a Bentham, or the hexameters of a Southey — had either or both of these eminent persons been there to witness — better still had they been there to partake in, the genial phrenzy. It was now that
Стр. 266 - There the townsmen gave way; but being pursued with horrible oaths and blows as far as Carfax, they rallied again under the shadow of that sacred edifice ; and received there a welcome reinforcement from the purlieus of the Staffordshire Canal, and the ingenuous youth of Penny-farthing Street. Once more the tide of war was turned ; the gowned phalanx gave back — surly and slow, indeed, but still they did give back. On rolled the adverse and swelling tide with their 'few plain instincts and their...

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