Select letters between the late duchess of Somerset, lady Luxborough ... and others; incl. a sketch of the manners, laws, &c. of the republic of Venice, publ. by mr. Hull, المجلد 1

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الصفحة 165 - Or wak'd to extafy the living lyre. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the fpoils of Time did ne'er unroll ; Chill Penury reprefs'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul.
الصفحة 111 - June 25 [1701], [printed in] Select Letters, 1777, 2 vols., vol. ii, p. 113. I send you a List of some Statues, about the same size with that Pair you have ; DEMOSTHENES LOCKE CHAUCER SHAKESPEARE and and and and CICERO, NEWTON, SPENCER, MILTON. When you have fixed upon which Pair you will have, you will let me know whether you will have them white or bronzed.
الصفحة 172 - She starts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock; the heath-cock's head is beneath his wing. No beast, no bird is abroad, but the owl and the howling fox: she on a leafless tree; he in a cloud on the hill. Dark, panting, trembling, sad, the traveller has lost his way. Through shrubs, through thorns, he goes, along the gurgling rill. He fears the rock and the fen. He fears...
الصفحة 90 - XXVIII. As nearer to his farm you made approach, He polifh'd Nature with a finer hand: Yet on her beauties durft not Art incroach ; 'Tis Art's alone thefe beauties to expand.
الصفحة 64 - I AM but just arrived at home, though I left Cheltenham the day after you. I stayed indeed to hear Mr. B. preach a morning sermon ; for which I find Mrs. C. has allotted him the Hat, preferably to Mr. C. Perhaps you may not remember, nor did I hear till very lately, that there is a Hat given annually at Cheltenham for the use of the best foreign preacher, of which the disposal is assigned to Mrs. C. to her and her heirs for ever. I remember...
الصفحة 176 - O maid! Thou that hast been the delight of heroes! The blast drives the phantom away; white, without form, it ascends the hill. The breezes drive the blue mist, slowly, over the narrow vale.
الصفحة 175 - ... the grass of the rock. The firs fall from their place. The turfy hut is torn. The clouds, divided, fly over the sky, and show the burning stars. The meteor, token of death ! flies sparkling through the gloom. It rests on the hill. I see the withered fern, the dark-browed rock, the fallen oak.
الصفحة 179 - Night is alike to me, stormy or gloomy the sky. Night flies before the beam, when it is poured on the hill. The young day returns from his clouds, but we return no more. Where are our chiefs of old? Where our kings of mighty name ? The fields of their battles are silent. Scarce their mossy tombs remain. We shall also be forgot. This lofty house shall fall. Our sons shall not behold the ruins in grass. They shall ask of the aged, " Where stood the walls of our fathers...
الصفحة 320 - The dear lamented son I have lost, was the pride and joy of my heart ; but I hope I may be the more easily excused for having looked on him in this light, since he was not so from the outward advantages he possessed, but from the virtues and rectitude of his mind. The...
الصفحة 321 - ... the younger part of the world, that it was possible to be cheerful without being foolish or vicious, and to be religious without severity or melancholy. His whole life was one...

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