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Seite 95 - Has she no faults then, (Envy says) Sir ?" Yes, she has one, I must aver; When all the world conspires to praise her, The woman's deaf, and does not hear.
Seite 173 - On! on! through meadows, managed like a garden, A paradise of hops and high production ; For, after years of travel by a bard in Countries of greater heat, but lesser suction, A green field is a sight which makes him pardon The absence of that more sublime construction, Which mixes up vines — olives — precipices — Glaciers— volcanoes — oranges and ices.
Seite 563 - I agree with you most absolutely in your opinion about Gray; he is the worst company in the world. From a melancholy turn, from living reclusely, and from a little too much dignity, he never converses easily ; all his words are measured and chosen, and formed into sentences ; his writings are admirable ; he himself is not agreeable.
Seite 52 - You perceive by my date that I am got into a new camp, and have left my tub at Windsor. It is a little play-thinghouse that I got out of Mrs. Chenevix's shop, and is the prettiest bauble you ever saw. It is set in enamelled meadows, with filigree hedges : A small Euphrates through the piece is roll'd, And little finches wave their wings in gold.
Seite 500 - Balmerino followed, alone, in a blue coat, turned up with red, (his rebellious regimentals), a flannel waistcoat, and his shroud beneath; their hearses following. They were conducted to a house near the scaffold: the room forwards had benches for spectators, in the second Lord Kilmarnock was put, and in the third backwards Lord Balmerino: all three chambers hung with black. Here they parted! Balmerino embraced the other, and said, "My lord, I wish I could suffer for both!
Seite 56 - Romanorum," the author of the Mysterious Mother, a tragedy of the highest order, and not a puling love-play. He is the father of the first romance, and of the last tragedy in our language, and surely worthy of a higher place than any living writer, be he who he may.
Seite 284 - Think we all these are for himself? no more Than his fine wife, alas ! or finer whore. For what has Virro painted, built, and planted ? Only to show how many tastes he wanted. What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to waste? Some demon whisper'd,
Seite 374 - I have been talking of, you must be informed, that every night constantly I go to Ranelagh; which has totally beat Vauxhall. Nobody goes anywhere else — everybody goes there. My Lord Chesterfield is so fond of it, that he says he has ordered all his letters to be directed thither.
Seite 46 - I am very exactly informed of your impertinent inquiries, and of the information you so busily sent to Richmond, and with what triumph and exultation it was received. I knew every particular of it the next day. Now, mark me, vagabond ! Keep to your pantomimes, or be assured you shall hear of it. Meddle no more, thou busy informer ! It is in my power to make you curse the hour in which you dared to interfere with Junius."* Mr.