Ainsworth's Magazine, 第 1 卷William Harrison Ainsworth Chapman and Hall, 1842 |
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第 327 頁
... the latter part of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century , than any document hitherto discovered . But it lay buried in the archives of Dulwich College , until Malone traced it in his Shakspearian researches . The heads ...
... the latter part of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century , than any document hitherto discovered . But it lay buried in the archives of Dulwich College , until Malone traced it in his Shakspearian researches . The heads ...
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Abel Alleyn appeared arms asked beautiful Beechcroft better Broadlands called castle Chester Castle Comus Cordwell Firebras Crackenthorpe cried the miser Cripps daughter Deacle dear Diggs door dress Earl Earl of Chester Edward Alleyn exclaimed eyes fair father followed gentleman girl give glass hand head hear heard heart Hilda honour hope Hope Theatre Horace Walpole hour Jukes King Lady Brabazon laughing live look Lord Lord Brackley LOUISA STUART COSTELLO Mary Marylebone Gardens master morning mother nephew never night o'er passed person Peter Philip Frewin poor Randulph Crew rejoined replied Jacob replied Randulph replied the miser returned Roger Dutton round Scarve Scheherazade seen shew side Sir Bulkeley Sir Norfolk smile spirit Strawberry Hill taste tell thee thing thou thought tone took Trussell turned uncle vizier walk Walpole window word young
熱門章節
第 178 頁 - Murder? Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is ; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
第 323 頁 - You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
第 319 頁 - How often have I paused on every charm, The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topped the neighboring hill, The hawthorn-bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made!
第 241 頁 - I cannot but think myself singularly obliged by a gentleman with whom I have not the pleasure of being acquainted, when I read your very curious and kind letter, which I have this minute received.
第 179 頁 - King Stephen was a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he call'd the tailor lown. He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree: Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
第 101 頁 - I have not leisure to write much. But I could chide thee that in many of thy Letters thou writest to me, That I should not be unmindful of thee and thy little ones. Truly, if I love you not too well, I think I err not on the other hand much. Thou art dearer to me than any creature; let that suffice.
第 100 頁 - Imagine the walls covered with (I call it paper, but it is really paper painted in perspective to represent) Gothic fretwork: the lightest Gothic balustrade to the staircase, adorned with antelopes (our supporters) bearing shields ; lean windows fattened with rich saints in painted glass, and a vestibule open with three arches on the landing-place, and niches full of trophies of old coats of mail, Indian shields made of rhinoceros's hides, broadswords, quivers, long bows, arrows, and spears — all...
第 185 頁 - The fountains of divine philosophy Fled not his thirsting lips, and all of great, Or good, or lovely, which the sacred past In truth or fable consecrates, he felt And knew.
第 172 頁 - ... were carved on the tops of the handles. Such as were at once opulent and generous, gave the whole twelve; those who were either more moderately rich or liberal, escaped at the...
第 190 頁 - WHAT is war and all its joys ? Useless mischief, empty noise. What are arms and trophies won ? Spangles glittering in the sun. Rosy Bacchus, give me wine, Happiness is only thine ! What is love without the bowl? 'Tis a languor of the soul : Crown'd with ivy, Venus charms, Ivy courts me to her arms. Bacchus, give me love and wine, Happiness is only thine ! THE VIRGIN S CHOICE.