The Gentleman's Magazine, Том 286F. Jefferies, 1899 The "Gentleman's magazine" section is a digest of selections from the weekly press; the "(Trader's) monthly intelligencer" section consists of news (foreign and domestic), vital statistics, a register of the month's new publications, and a calendar of forthcoming trade fairs. |
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Стр. 33 - I'll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body's balmer; No other balm will there be given; Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer, Travelleth towards the land of heaven; Over the silver mountains, Where spring the nectar fountains. There will I kiss The bowl of bliss; And drink mine everlasting fill Upon every milken hill. My soul will be a-dry before; But after it will thirst no more.
Стр. 229 - Then sat I by the fount, Where first you took me up. King. Search out a match Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt, And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself Wilt well deserve him. Bel. Never, sir, will I Marry; it is a thing within my vow...
Стр. 313 - I say, sitting, — for in consideration of the Corporal's lame knee (which sometimes gave him exquisite pain) — when my uncle Toby dined or supped alone, he would never suffer the Corporal to stand ; and the poor fellow's veneration for his master was such, that, with a proper artillery, my uncle Toby could have taken...
Стр. 228 - Was but a maiden longing, to be lost As soon as found ; till sitting in my window, Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god, I thought, (but it was you) enter our gates. My blood flew out, and back again as fast, As I had puff'd it forth and suck'd it in Like breath : Then was I call'd away in haste To entertain you.
Стр. 193 - The conformation of his mind was such that whatever was little seemed to him great, and whatever was great seemed to him little. Serious business was a trifle to him, and trifles were his serious business.
Стр. 40 - There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me:— Only to live as once on earth With Love,— only to be, As then awhile, for ever now Together, I and he.
Стр. 40 - The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!
Стр. 193 - I agree with you most absolutely in your opinion about Gray ; he is the worst company in the world. From a melancholy turn, from living reclusely, and from a little too much dignity, he never converses easily ; all his words are measured and chosen, and formed into sentences ; his writings are admirable; he himself is not agreeable...
Стр. 191 - I waked one morning in the beginning of last June from a dream, of which all I could recover was, that I had thought myself in an ancient castle (a very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic story) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour. In the evening I sat down and began to write, without knowing in the least what I intended to say or relate.