New Monthly Magazine, and Universal Register, Volume 119E. W. Allen, 1860 |
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Page 10
... dear , what will become of us ? Oh dear , what shall we do ? We shall get the blue devils if some of us Don't find out something that's new ! " " I wish we were at the Café Régence , " suggested Hamilton , of the 100th P. W. O.'s ...
... dear , what will become of us ? Oh dear , what shall we do ? We shall get the blue devils if some of us Don't find out something that's new ! " " I wish we were at the Café Régence , " suggested Hamilton , of the 100th P. W. O.'s ...
Page 12
... dear Simon ; just what you are ! " responded Little Grand , pleasantly . " Bless your heart , I've been engaged to half a dozen women since I joined . A man can hardly help it , you see ; they've such a way of drawing you on , you don't ...
... dear Simon ; just what you are ! " responded Little Grand , pleasantly . " Bless your heart , I've been engaged to half a dozen women since I joined . A man can hardly help it , you see ; they've such a way of drawing you on , you don't ...
Page 13
... dear Simon , is the Marchioness St. Julian . " " Is that an English peerage , Grand ? " " Hum ! What ! Oh yes , of course ! owl ? " What else should it be , you Not being in a condition to decide this point , I was silent , and he went ...
... dear Simon , is the Marchioness St. Julian . " " Is that an English peerage , Grand ? " " Hum ! What ! Oh yes , of course ! owl ? " What else should it be , you Not being in a condition to decide this point , I was silent , and he went ...
Page 14
... dear , or if he was in a scrape from which he saw no exit . Conran had plenty of tin of his own , and there were few bright eyes in Malta that would not have smiled kindly on him ; but he did not care much for any of them . There was ...
... dear , or if he was in a scrape from which he saw no exit . Conran had plenty of tin of his own , and there were few bright eyes in Malta that would not have smiled kindly on him ; but he did not care much for any of them . There was ...
Page 17
... dear Lucrezia , we can't make you sing , of course , if you won't . I , for my part , always do any little thing I can to amuse any- body ; if I fail , I fail ; I have done my best , and my friends will appre- ciate the effort , if not ...
... dear Lucrezia , we can't make you sing , of course , if you won't . I , for my part , always do any little thing I can to amuse any- body ; if I fail , I fail ; I have done my best , and my friends will appre- ciate the effort , if not ...
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Popular passages
Page 39 - Into a Limbo large and broad, since called The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown Long after, now unpeopled and untrod.
Page 158 - And she hath watched Many a nightingale perch giddily On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze, And to that motion tune his wanton song Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
Page 153 - But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation; And the mute Silence hist along, 'Less Philomel will deign a song...
Page 157 - Or slow distemper, or neglected love, (And so, poor wretch! filled all things with himself, And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale Of his own sorrow) he, and such as he, First named these notes a melancholy strain. And many a poet echoes the conceit; Poet who hath been building up the rhyme...
Page 74 - Ye woodlands all , awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela , charm The listening shades, and teach the night his praise.
Page 310 - How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams melt along the silent sea ; For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave tow'rd the burning west, I long to tread that golden path of rays, And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.
Page 78 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn...
Page 72 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Page 157 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Page 68 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended ; and, I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.