Anglia: Zeitschrift für englische Philologie

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Page 419 - wird diese Schilderung weitergeführt: New to the dome Against the windows beats, then brisk alights On the warm hearth, and hopping over the floor Eyes all the smiling family askance, And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is Till more familiar grown, the table crumbs Attract his slender feet. Der bedeutendste
Page 31 - They chain'd us each to a column stone, And we were three — yet, each alone; We could not move a single pace, We could not see each other's face, But. with that pale and livid light That made us strangers in our sight: And thus together — yet apart, Fetter'd in hand, but
Page 61 - An Essay in Illustration of the Belief in the Existence of Devils, and the Powers Possessed by Them, as it was generally held during the Period of the Reformation and the Times immediately Succeeding, with Special Reference to Shakespeare and his Works.
Page 13 - Johnson, 'the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the manners of different times, and the Impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for
Page 59 - 217 Calendar of State Papers and Manuscripts, Relating to English Affairs, Existing in the Archives and Collections of Venice, and in other Libraries of Northern Italy.
Page 456 - the thirsty moments, Whist a while 3 Walks his grave round beneath a cloud of smoke, Wreathed, fragrant, from the pipe; or the quick dice, In thunder leaping from the box, awake The sounding gammon: while romploving miss Is hauled about, in galantry robust. Lyttelton rechtfertigt den
Page 418 - wurde Armstrong's gedieht erst im jähre 1770 gedruckt. The Redbreast sole, Wisely regardful of the embroiling sky, In joyless fields, and thorny thickets, leaves His shivering fellows, and to trusted man His annual visit pays.
Page 452 - Deep in the night the massy locust sheds, Quench my hot limbs; or lead me through the maze, Embowering endless of the Indian fig; Or thrown at gayer ease, on some fair brow, Let me behold, by breezy murmurs cooled, broad over my head the
Page 453 - Nor dogs, nor toils, he wants; nor with the dread Of sounding bows the ruthless hunter drives The fearful flying race; D 280 The ruthless hunter wants nor dogs nor toils, Nor with the dread of sounding bows he drives The fearful flying race.

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