The Gentleman's Magazine, Part 1Bradbury, Evans, 1874 - English periodicals |
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Page 6
... door of a red - brick house - one of those creeperless farmhouses that seem to live in a perpetual stare at their own neatness . He was about to tap , when— " What's your business here , my good man ? " asked a stout and florid dame ...
... door of a red - brick house - one of those creeperless farmhouses that seem to live in a perpetual stare at their own neatness . He was about to tap , when— " What's your business here , my good man ? " asked a stout and florid dame ...
Page 7
... door , while Miss Holmes stood and watched him till he was clear of the garden wicket . Then she shook her head . " Just do off the chain from Jowler , Betty , " she called out , " and give him the run of the yard . I'm half - minded ...
... door , while Miss Holmes stood and watched him till he was clear of the garden wicket . Then she shook her head . " Just do off the chain from Jowler , Betty , " she called out , " and give him the run of the yard . I'm half - minded ...
Page 10
... door stood wide open , like welcome , and the entrance was protected by a hatch , knee - high , and a bell . The smell and the sight were as lamb to the wolf , and , though he passed on for a few yards , he soon turned back again ...
... door stood wide open , like welcome , and the entrance was protected by a hatch , knee - high , and a bell . The smell and the sight were as lamb to the wolf , and , though he passed on for a few yards , he soon turned back again ...
Page 11
... and in full cry , too . " And sure enough , right through the hamlet and past the baker's door dashed dogs , horses , and scarlet coats . The baker threw himself over his counter ; the baker's wife , forgetful Olympia . I I.
... and in full cry , too . " And sure enough , right through the hamlet and past the baker's door dashed dogs , horses , and scarlet coats . The baker threw himself over his counter ; the baker's wife , forgetful Olympia . I I.
Page 13
... doors through a long cold October night , and he was chilled and hungry to the very marrow of his bones . Nevertheless , there was nothing to do but to tramp on ... door - at any rate he might absorb a little heat without having Olympia . 13.
... doors through a long cold October night , and he was chilled and hungry to the very marrow of his bones . Nevertheless , there was nothing to do but to tramp on ... door - at any rate he might absorb a little heat without having Olympia . 13.
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appeared asked Aunt Barnard Bazaine beauty Beckfield Bill called Captain Westwood character Church Clytie course Court Cuffing Cuffing's Cuttle Fish dear Dickens Disraeli Don Pedro door Dunelm English Erith eyes face father feel fish Gaucho gentleman Gerald girl give Gladstone grandfather Gressford hand heard heart Holland honour hour House of Commons John John Keats Kalmat Keats knew Lady St Leigh Hunt letter live London looked Lord Calmont Lord St lordship Magistrate manner matter mind morning nature never night Olympia once owld Parliament passed perhaps poem poet poor present question Ransford remember round seemed Shirley Brooks Sir John Pakington smile soul speak stood Street sure tell thing thought tion told Tom Harris took turned voice walk Wendale Westminster Palace Westwood word young
Popular passages
Page 203 - The breath whose might I have invoked in song Descends on me; my spirit's bark is driven, Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng Whose sails were never to the tempest given; The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.
Page 543 - All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence ; ripen, fall and cease : Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.
Page 543 - Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
Page 434 - Life of Life, thy lips enkindle With their love the breath between them; And thy smiles before they dwindle Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes.
Page 432 - The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds Which trample the dim winds: in each there stands A wild-eyed charioteer urging their flight. Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there, And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars: Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink With eager lips the wind of their own speed. As if the thing they loved fled on before, And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks Stream like a comet's flashing...
Page 64 - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ?" Quoth little Peterkin. " Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
Page 184 - A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness...
Page 186 - Stop and consider! life is but a day; A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way From a tree's summit; a poor Indian's sleep While his boat hastens to the monstrous steep Of Montmorenci. Why so sad a moan? Life is the rose's hope while yet unblown; The reading of an ever-changing tale; The light uplifting of a maiden's veil; A pigeon tumbling in clear summer air; A laughing school-boy, without grief or care, Riding the springy branches of an elm.
Page 181 - The more they on it stare. But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, Are governed with goodly modesty, That suffers not one look to glance awry Which may let in a little thought unsound.
Page 187 - KEEN, fitful gusts are whisp'ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry ; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn on high, Or of the distance from home's pleasant lair: For I am brimfull of the friendliness That in a little cottage I have found ; Of fair-hair'd Milton's eloquent distress, And all his love for gentle Lycid drown'd...