New Monthly Magazine, Band 50

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Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, William Ainsworth, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood
E. W. Allen, 1837
 

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Seite 370 - No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar...
Seite 58 - Vous êtes assurée ici d'un plein secret, Et le mal n'est jamais que dans l'éclat qu'on fait . Le scandale du monde est ce qui fait l'offense , Et ce n'est pas pécher, que pécher en silence.
Seite 432 - gainst every odds— and I've gained the victory. Our captain sent for all of us; my merry men, said he, I havn't the gift of the gab, my lads, but yet I thankful be; You've done your duty handsomely, each man stood to his gun, If you hadn't, you villains, as sure as day, I'd have flogged each mother's son. Odds bobs, hammer and tongs, as long as I'm at sea, I'll fight 'gainst every odds — and I'll gain the victory.
Seite 196 - ... injured brood. The barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheelbarrow, follow with great truth and rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him by his master, though of considerable length, fully and faithfully. He runs over the...
Seite 226 - Of passion link the universal kind Of man so close, what wonder if to search This common nature through the various change Of sex, and age, and fortune, and the frame Of each peculiar, draw the busy mind With unresisted charms?
Seite 229 - What is it that keeps men in continual discontent and agitation ? It is, that they cannot make realities correspond with their conceptions, that enjoyment steals away from...
Seite 196 - Both in his native and domesticated state, during the solemn stillness of night, as soon as the moon rises in silent majesty, he begins his delightful solo, and serenades us the livelong night with a full display of his vocal powers, making the whole neighborhood ring with his inimitable medley.
Seite 366 - And we may preach with as good success to the grave that is under his feet.
Seite 162 - My son is my son till he gets him a wife, My daughter's my daughter all the days of her life...
Seite 369 - Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures; Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; Towers and battlements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.

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