Mrs. Armytage; or, Female domination, by the authoress of 'Mothers and daughters'.






第 275 頁 - A SLUMBER did my spirit seal ; I had no human fears : She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force ; She neither hears nor sees ; Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees.
第 199 頁 - I meant the day-star should not brighter rise, Nor lend like influence from his lucent seat. I meant she should be courteous, facile, sweet. Hating that solemn vice of greatness, pride; I meant each softest virtue there should meet, Fit in that softer bosom to reside. Only a learned and a manly soul I purposed her, that should, with even powers, The rock, the spindle, and the shears control Of destiny, and spin her own free hours.
第 115 頁 - He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
第 292 頁 - Monimia talks very tenderly upon this subject: -It was not kind To leave me like a turtle here alone, To droop and mourn the absence of my mate. When thou art from me, every place is desert: And I, methinks, am savage and forlorn. Thy presence only 'tis can make me blest, Heal my unquiet mind, and tune my soul.
第 223 頁 - O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome; But for your son— believe it, O, believe it!— Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him.
第 157 頁 - Tigris' shore, In mighty Bagdat, populous and great, Held their bright court, where was of ladies store; And verse, love, music still the garland wore: When Sleep was coy, the bard, in waiting there...
第 323 頁 - ... restore !" So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the suppliant heavenward lifts her hands ; While, like the sun emerging from a cloud...
第 75 頁 - Tis but to wear a weary load I may not, dare not, cast away ; To sigh for one small, still abode, Where I may sleep as sweet as they ;— As they, the loveliest of their race, Whose grassy tombs my sorrows steep, Whose worth my soul delights to trace, Whose very loss 'tis sweet to weep, — To weep beneath the.
第 92 頁 - Her throbs of ecstasy or pain Lull'd in oblivion all. With her, methinks, life's little hour Pass'd like the fragrance of a flower, That leaves upon the vernal wind Sweetness we ne'er again may find. Where dwelt she ? — Ask yon aged tree, Whose boughs embower the lawn, Whether the birds...
第 135 頁 - But easy quiet, a secure retreat, A harmless life that knows not how to cheat, With home-bred plenty, the rich owner bless ; And rural pleasures crown his happiness. Unvex'd with quarrels, undisturb'd with noise, The country king his peaceful realm enjoys...