The Works of Professor Wilson of the University of Edinburgh: Noctes ambrosianaeW. Blackwood, 1855 |
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Seite xii
... Gentle's Eyes , Colvin Smith's Portrait of Jeffrey , Eulogium on Jeffrey , Watson Gordon's " Lord Dalhousie , " A Braw Wooer . - A Queenlike Quean , Shepherd's Genius contagious , An Adventure , An Echo to the Shepherd's Key - bugle ...
... Gentle's Eyes , Colvin Smith's Portrait of Jeffrey , Eulogium on Jeffrey , Watson Gordon's " Lord Dalhousie , " A Braw Wooer . - A Queenlike Quean , Shepherd's Genius contagious , An Adventure , An Echo to the Shepherd's Key - bugle ...
Seite 14
... GENTLE , MISS GENTLE . ' Mrs Gentle . I suspect , Mary , that we are to have the whole coach to ourselves . It has struck four . Miss Gentle . Mr Forsyth's coach seldom starts , I think , till about seven minutes after the hour , and I ...
... GENTLE , MISS GENTLE . ' Mrs Gentle . I suspect , Mary , that we are to have the whole coach to ourselves . It has struck four . Miss Gentle . Mr Forsyth's coach seldom starts , I think , till about seven minutes after the hour , and I ...
Seite 15
... Gentle . Fat dusty woman , Mary ! Why , may not- Miss Gentle . My dear mother ! I declare there come Mr Tickler and Mr Hogg ! Do let me kiss my hand to them- perhaps they may- Tickler . Ha ! ladies - I am delighted to find we shall have ...
... Gentle . Fat dusty woman , Mary ! Why , may not- Miss Gentle . My dear mother ! I declare there come Mr Tickler and Mr Hogg ! Do let me kiss my hand to them- perhaps they may- Tickler . Ha ! ladies - I am delighted to find we shall have ...
Seite 16
... Gentle , though the tears do come to your een . Friendship is never sae pure , sae unselfish , sae affeckin , in this warld , as when it breathes frae bosom to bosom o ' twa young innocent maidens , wha , haʼin nae sisters o ' their ain ...
... Gentle , though the tears do come to your een . Friendship is never sae pure , sae unselfish , sae affeckin , in this warld , as when it breathes frae bosom to bosom o ' twa young innocent maidens , wha , haʼin nae sisters o ' their ain ...
Seite 17
... Gentle . What fine apprehensions are given to the poet's gifted soul and senses ! Shepherd . A July at Mount Benger will add twenty years to Miss Ellenor's life . She sall hae asses ' milk - and a stool to sit on in the byre every nicht ...
... Gentle . What fine apprehensions are given to the poet's gifted soul and senses ! Shepherd . A July at Mount Benger will add twenty years to Miss Ellenor's life . She sall hae asses ' milk - and a stool to sit on in the byre every nicht ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
aboon admirable afore aiblins alang alloo amang Ambrose ance aneath aneuch anither atween auld Awmrose baith beautifu beauty Blackwood's Magazine blash bonny canna Catholic Emancipation character Christopher North cretur dear James dear Shepherd dinna doun dream Edinburgh Embro English Opium-Eater eyes face fear feel frae gang gaun genius Gentle gude haill haud hauns head hear heart heaven himsel Hogg howp human imagination intil ither kintra lassie licht Loch look mair maist maun micht mind mony moral Mount Benger mouth muckle mysel naething nane nature never Noctes North onything ower pairt PICARDY poet poetry puir Quinshy roun Scotland Shepherd singin sittin soul Southey sowl speakin spirit St Mary's Loch thae there's nae thing thocht Tickler truth verra warld weel what's wull yoursel
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 102 - For the things that are seen are Temporal; but the things that are not seen are Eternal.
Seite 279 - SHUT, shut the door, good John ! fatigued, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The Dog-star rages ! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out : Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, 5 They rave, recite, and madden round the land.
Seite 279 - They rave, recite, and madden round the land. What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, | • By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. No place is sacred, not the church is free, Even Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me : Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy! to catch me, just at dinner-time.
Seite 265 - ... if the intelligent faculty should be rendered more comprehensive, it would require only a different and apportioned organization, the body celestial instead of the body terrestrial, to bring before every human soul the collective experience of its whole past existence, and this, — this, perchance, is the dread book of judgment, in whose mysterious hieroglyphics every idle word is recorded...
Seite 212 - The Planter's Guide; or, a Practical Essay on the best Method of giving immediate Effect to Wood, by the Removal of large Trees...
Seite 319 - Come, bright improvement! on the car of time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime ; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
Seite 41 - Leander Van Ess, " quoth the Seventeenth Keport, " seeks no earthly emoluments ; nor is the applause of a vain world his aim ; he desires not the treasures which rust and moth consume. No ; the glory of God, and the salvation of souls, these are the pure and heavenly principles which influence his mind and stimulate his actions.
Seite 76 - ... which have in themselves something sacred and endearing to every good heart. One cannot, surely, always pass by, in his walks for health, restoration, or delight, the lone way-side beggar, without occasionally giving him an alms. Old, care-worn, pale, drooping, and emaciated creatures, who pass us by without looking beseechingly at us, or even lifting...
Seite 279 - I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star rages ! nay 'tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out : Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land. What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, thro...
Seite 279 - tis past a doubt, All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out: Fire in each eye, and papers in each hand, They rave, recite, and madden round the land. What walls can guard me, or what shades can hide? They pierce my thickets, through my grot they glide, By land, by water, they renew the charge, They stop the chariot, and they board the barge. No place is sacred, not the church is free, Ev'n Sunday shines no Sabbath-day to me: Then from the Mint walks forth the man of rhyme, Happy!