Memoirs of William Beckford of Fonthill, Band 2

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C.J. Skeet, 1859
 

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Seite 282 - I throw my hours away ! In the recesses of the forest vale, On the wild mountain, on the verdant sod, Where the fresh breezes of the morn prevail, I wander lonely, communing with God.
Seite 347 - Commons, as he would a committee for any other purpose, and this committee does nothing but blunder. There must be a feeling for art — mere admiration won't do — people admire, and affect to be struck with works of art, because others affect the same thing. Just as an opera audience cries, ' Wonderful !' at a performance of which it does not comprehend a syllable.
Seite 268 - HARK ! heard ye not that deep, appalling sound ? Tremble ! for lo, the vexed affrighted ground Heaves strong in dread convulsion, — streams of fire Burst from the vengeful sky — a voice of ire Proclaims, "Ye guilty, wait your final doom : No more the silent refuge of the tomb Shall screen your crimes, your frailties.
Seite 401 - Give him a boar to stab, and a pigeon to shoot at, a battledore or an angling rod, and he is better contented than Solomon in all his glory, and will never discover, like that sapient sovereign, that all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Seite 326 - A pressing engagement called him away after a week's visit, and I never saw him again. How well he wrote — how original his style and humour. He understood character thoroughly — he played with human foibles ! He repeated an epigram on his setting a nightcap on fire, he had borrowed of Lord Nelson, while sitting up reading.* Sir William Hamilton, my old friend, died two or three years after this visit. Some of his finest antiquities are in the Museum." " Was the second Lady Hamilton a fascinating...
Seite 363 - I should have been perpetually annoyed by the ticking of some cursed jack, the jingling of some beastly piano, horridtoned bells tinkling, and so on. The only way to avoid this was by buying the house ; and so I bought it, to the infinite annoyance and astonishment of the Bath aristocracy, an odd, breed, I believe.
Seite 326 - I never thought her so. She was somewhat masculine, but symmetrical in figure, so that Sir William called her his Grecian. She was full in person, not fat, but embonpoint. Her carriage often majestic, rather than feminine. Not at all delicate, ill-bred, often very affected, a devil in temper when set on edge. She had beautiful hair and displayed it. Her countenance was agreeable, — fine, hardly beautiful, but the outline excellent. She affected sensibility, but felt none — was artful ; and no...
Seite 326 - Take your night-cap again, my good lord, I desire, For I wish not to keep it a minute, What belongs to a Nelson, where'er there's a fire, Is sure to be instantly in it.
Seite 349 - Don't say that, sir,' said Vincent; 'you can trust my word — you shall walk up there under the shade of your own trees in the spring — — next spring — every tree twelve feet high. If you, sir, find the money, I will find the trees. It is the first week in October, the time to set about it.

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