The Annual Biography and Obituary for the Year ..., Band 20

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1836
 

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Seite 5 - Yes ! they wander on In gladness all ; but thou, methinks, most glad, My gentle-hearted Charles ! for thou hast pined And hungered after Nature, many a year, In the great City pent, winning thy way With sad yet patient soul, through evil and pain And strange calamity!
Seite 6 - But with what a gusto would he describe his favourite authors, Donne, or Sir Philip Sidney, and call their most crabbed passages delicious ! He tried them on his palate as epicures taste olives, and his observations had a smack in them, like a roughness on the tongue.
Seite 403 - He was called to the bar by the Hon. Society of Lincoln's Inn in...
Seite 284 - WHEN first, descending from the moorlands, I saw the Stream of Yarrow glide Along a bare and open valley, The Ettrick Shepherd was my guide. When last along its banks I wandered, Through groves that had begun to shed Their golden leaves upon the pathways, My steps the Border-minstrel led. The mighty Minstrel breathes no longer, Mid mouldering ruins low he lies ; And death upon the braes of Yarrow, Has closed the Shepherd-poet's eyes...
Seite 341 - Her lot is on you — silent tears to weep, And patient smiles to wear through suffering's hour, And sumless riches, from affection's deep, To pour on broken reeds — a wasted shower ! And to make idols, and to find them clay, And to bewail that worship. Therefore pray...
Seite 75 - William Carey, born August 17, 1761, died . " A wretched, poor, and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall.
Seite 390 - I COME, I come ! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with light and song, Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves opening as I pass.
Seite 7 - at cribbage, and he was thought no mean person. This was Ned Phillips, and a better fellow in his way breathes not. There was , who asserted some incredible matter of fact as a likely paradox, and settled all controversies by an ipse dixit...
Seite 217 - I subscribed to a circulating library at Brompton, the greatest part of the books in which I read more than once over. The library was not very considerable, it is true, nor in my reading was I directed by any degree of taste or choice. Novels, plays, history, poetry, all were read, and nearly with equal avidity.
Seite 299 - He has made a chasm, which not only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a tendency to fill up. Johnson is dead. Let us go to the next best: there is nobody; no man can be said to put you in mind of Johnson.

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