Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance, General Literature, & Art, Band 6William Harrison Ainsworth Chapman and Hall, 1844 |
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Seite 11
... door to - night . " " This convinces me we've a housebreaker to deal with " said Timperley . " He has taken out the key , and locked himself in the closet . " " Maybe , " said Brumby . " But let's break open the door- I'm sure I hear a ...
... door to - night . " " This convinces me we've a housebreaker to deal with " said Timperley . " He has taken out the key , and locked himself in the closet . " " Maybe , " said Brumby . " But let's break open the door- I'm sure I hear a ...
Seite 12
... door , I beseesh of you . " " Open At this reply there was a general roar of laughter from the group outside , which was not diminished when the door being opened by Fishwick , the valet sneaked forth .. Without waiting to thank his ...
... door , I beseesh of you . " " Open At this reply there was a general roar of laughter from the group outside , which was not diminished when the door being opened by Fishwick , the valet sneaked forth .. Without waiting to thank his ...
Seite 14
... door . " Sacre Dieu ! vat's dat ? " cried Bimbelot . " It's the serjeant , " cried Mrs. Plumpton , starting up . " I'm sure it's him . " As she spoke , the door opened , and there stood Scales , but how miserably changed from his former ...
... door . " Sacre Dieu ! vat's dat ? " cried Bimbelot . " It's the serjeant , " cried Mrs. Plumpton , starting up . " I'm sure it's him . " As she spoke , the door opened , and there stood Scales , but how miserably changed from his former ...
Seite 18
... door , and passed in . Everything was in its place the plans , the portrait , the gloves , the sword , the shot , the meerschaum , with the drum standing on the three - legged stool . The serjeant surveyed them all , and a tear ...
... door , and passed in . Everything was in its place the plans , the portrait , the gloves , the sword , the shot , the meerschaum , with the drum standing on the three - legged stool . The serjeant surveyed them all , and a tear ...
Seite 20
... door and window opened , and two or three persons made their appearance . " What's the row ? " cried one . " What's up ? " exclaimed another . " Who has hung himself ? " chorused a third . " My friends , come hither , and help me ...
... door and window opened , and two or three persons made their appearance . " What's the row ? " cried one . " What's up ? " exclaimed another . " Who has hung himself ? " chorused a third . " My friends , come hither , and help me ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Aleppo Antioch Apamea appeared Arabs arrived Auriol Baldred beauty Bimbelot brother brought called Captain character church Colonel cried death Doctor door Doyle duchess Duchess of Marlborough duke Euphrates exclaimed eyes father feeling fire French give Guiscard hand Harley head heard heart Hibblethwaite honour horse hour Hugh John Manesty Kate king lady living look lord madam Manesty Masham mind morning Morocco nature never night once party passed passion Pat Doyle Patrick Doyle person PHAON plain Plumpton poet Polka Party poor Port William portmanteau present Proddy queen rejoined remarkable replied returned river round ruins Sacheverell Saint-John Sandman SAPHO Savidge scene seemed serjeant shewed side soul spirit spot stood story Strabo Syria tears thee thing thou thought tion took town Turkomans turned Varnham voice Westerwood wife Wolsterholme woman words young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 179 - And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes. Now, Lycidas, the Shepherds weep no more; Henceforth thou art the Genius of the shore, In thy large recompense, and shalt be good To all that wander in that perilous flood.
Seite 395 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds...
Seite 83 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Seite 178 - And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy...
Seite 179 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears; Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Seite 391 - Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts. And every sweetness that inspired their hearts. Their minds, and muses on admired themes; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit; If these had made one poem's period, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest.
Seite 177 - Hath decked their rising cheeks in red, Such as on your lips is spread ! Here be berries for a queen, Some be red, some be green ; These are of that luscious meat, The great god Pan himself doth eat : All these, and what the woods can yield, The hanging mountain or the field, I freely offer...
Seite 83 - ... beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright...
Seite 499 - Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; For what is in this world but grief and woe? O God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...
Seite 280 - tis, that you should carry me away: And trust me not, my friends, if, every day, I walk not here with more delight, Than ever, after the most happy fight, In triumph to the capitol I rode, To thank the gods, and to be thought, myself, almost a god.