The Autobiography of William Jerdan: With His Literary, Political and Social Reminiscences and Correspondence During the Last Fifty Years, Band 3

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A. Hall, Virtue & Company, 1853
 

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Seite 34 - But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold; Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, The groom retails the favours of his lord. But hark! th...
Seite 11 - ALL my past life is mine no more; The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams given o'er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment's all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, Phillis, is only thine.
Seite 92 - WHEN HE WHO ADORES THEE. WHEN he who adores thee has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, Oh say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Of a life that for thee was resign'd?
Seite 5 - It ends with musical melancholy, a strain of exquisitely simple beauty, referring to the judicial slaying of one of England's worthiest sons. There are some fine portraits ably limned herein. There are family pictures so graphically described that they possess the mind for ever.
Seite 12 - We have rarely had occasion to speak more highly of any work than of this. The purpose of the writer is admirable, the manner of his working out the story is natural and truthful, and the sentiments conveyed are all that can be desired." — Sell's Weekly Messenger. " We are glad to see such tales within the reach of the people. Mechanics' Institutes, and libraries of a popular character, should avail themselves of this edition.
Seite 4 - Many a fevered head and palsied hand will gather new vigour in the hour of sickness and distress from your excellent exertions ; many a widowed mother and orphan child, who would otherwise reap nothing from the fame of departed genius but its too frequent legacy of poverty and suffering, will bear, in their altered condition, higher testimony to the value of your labours than the most lavish encomiums from lip or pen could ever afford.
Seite 5 - This is a charming little book ; and whether we regard its subject, cleverness, or delicacy of sentiment or expression— to say nothing of its type and orthography — it is likely to be a most acceptable present to young or old, be their peculiar taste for religion, morals, poetry, history, or romance.
Seite 177 - But now thou com'st with softer claim, The loveliest and the last. Sweet are the charms in thee we find, Emblem of Hope's gay wing ; 'Tis thine to call past bloom to mind — To promise future spring.- — L.
Seite 3 - Mr. Bartlett has made a book, pleasant in letter-press, as well as attractive in its illustrations — delicately finished line engravings of subjects particularly well chosen.
Seite 77 - Nobler wines why do we pour ? Beauteous flowers why do we spread, Upon the monuments of the dead? Nothing they but dust can show, Or bones that hasten to be so. Crown me with roses whilst I live, Now your wines and ointments give; After death I nothing crave, Let me alive my pleasures have, All are Stoics in the grave.

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