Posthumous memoirs of his own time

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Carey, Lea & Blanchard, 1836 - 568 Seiten
 

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Seite 311 - there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance.
Seite 463 - When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him ; then prophet-like They hail'd him father to a line of kings : Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding.
Seite 239 - Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Seite 490 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! Let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with ! Lady M.
Seite 58 - Above the rest, majestically great, Behold the infant Atlas of the state, The matchless miracle of modern days ; In whom Britannia to the world displays A sight to make surrounding nations stare ; A kingdom trusted to a schoolboy's care...
Seite 281 - His fall was destined to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale, To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Seite 440 - we passed between Dover and Calais, and before night came in sight of the Isle of Wight. The next day being the day in which the prince was both born and married, he fancied, if he could land that day, it would look auspicious to the army, and animate the soldiers. But we all, who considered that the day following being Gunpowder Treason Day, our landing that day might have a good effect on the minds of the English nation, were better pleased to see that we could land no sooner.
Seite 471 - To have his heir of such a suffering spirit, So wise, so grave, of so perplex'da tongue, And loud withal, that would not wag, nor scarce Lie still, without a fee: when every word Your worship but lets fall, is a chequin ! [Knocking without.
Seite 469 - The sin was of our native growth, 'tis true ; The scandal of the sin was wholly new. Misses there were, but modestly concealed ; Whitehall the naked Venus first revealed, Who standing as at Cyprus in her shrine, The strumpet was adored with rites divine.
Seite 87 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.

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