Southennan. ...: In Two Volumes, 第 2 卷

J. & J. Harper, 1830




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第 126 頁 - As the sun, Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events. And in today already walks tomorrow.
第 93 頁 - Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
第 87 頁 - O curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad, And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, Than keep a corner in the thing I love For others
第 52 頁 - I see, men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes ; and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike.
第 16 頁 - The more desirable; or, to say all, Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought, Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turned: I followed her; she what was honour knew, And with obsequious majesty approved My pleaded reason.
第 74 頁 - Of these the false Achitophel was first, A name to all succeeding ages curst : For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit...
第 56 頁 - For neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through heaven and earth : And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems...
第 84 頁 - Mary's most dangerous rival in her claim upon the English succession. She was the daughter of Margaret, the eldest sister of Henry VIII. by the earl of Angus, whom that queen married after the death of her husband James IV. In that age, the right and order of succession was not settled with the same accuracy as at present. Time, and the decision of almost every case that can possibly happen...
第 137 頁 - Wai. (moves to the window). There is a busy motion in the heaven, The wind doth chase the flag upon the tower, Fast sweep the clouds, the sickle of the moon, Struggling, darts snatches of uncertain light.
第 189 頁 - My son! is troubled with an ancient sorrow, Which grows again anew ; and glowing themes, Gathering afresh, o'ershadow me with dreams Of a mysterious darkness on the morrow. I fain would weep, and yet can find no tears — Naught but the broken sigh and stifled groan ; These are the tenants of my heart alone, And their deep underminings steal my years.