The Spectator ...John Sharpe, 1803 |
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Seite 2
... letter which I received near a fortnight since from a lady , who , it seems , could hold out no longer , telling me ... letters which have been sent to me by disappointed lovers , that my advice has been of very signal service to the ...
... letter which I received near a fortnight since from a lady , who , it seems , could hold out no longer , telling me ... letters which have been sent to me by disappointed lovers , that my advice has been of very signal service to the ...
Seite 5
... letter that I received about half a year ago from a gentleman at Cambridge , who stiles himself Peter de Quir2 . I have kept it by me some months ; and , though I did not know at first what to make of it , upon my reading it over very ...
... letter that I received about half a year ago from a gentleman at Cambridge , who stiles himself Peter de Quir2 . I have kept it by me some months ; and , though I did not know at first what to make of it , upon my reading it over very ...
Seite 6
... letter , awhile ago , stiled him- self Philobrune 4. Dear Sir , as you are by character a profest well - wisher to speculation , you will excuse a remark which this gentleman's passion for the bru- nette has suggested to a brother ...
... letter , awhile ago , stiled him- self Philobrune 4. Dear Sir , as you are by character a profest well - wisher to speculation , you will excuse a remark which this gentleman's passion for the bru- nette has suggested to a brother ...
Seite 10
... letter of Ann of Boleyn , wife to king Henry the Eighth , and mother to Queen Elizabeth , which is still extant in the Cotton library , as written by her own hand . 1 Shakspeare himself could not have made her talk in a strain so ...
... letter of Ann of Boleyn , wife to king Henry the Eighth , and mother to Queen Elizabeth , which is still extant in the Cotton library , as written by her own hand . 1 Shakspeare himself could not have made her talk in a strain so ...
Seite 11
Queen Ann Boleyn's last letter to King Henry . SIR , Cotton Lib . • YOUR grace's displeasure , and my im Otho C. 10. prisonment , are things so strange unto me , as what to write , or what to excuse , I am alto- gether ignorant ...
Queen Ann Boleyn's last letter to King Henry . SIR , Cotton Lib . • YOUR grace's displeasure , and my im Otho C. 10. prisonment , are things so strange unto me , as what to write , or what to excuse , I am alto- gether ignorant ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
acquaint ADDISON admired Æneid æther affected agreeable Ann Boleyn appear attend Basilius Valentinus beautiful behold Callisthenes character colours consider conversation Cotton library Cynthio delight desire discourse divine endeavour entertainment Epig excellent eyes fancy favour fortune gentleman give Gloriana grace hand happy heart honour hope humble servant humour ideas Iliad imagination infirmary James Miller John Sharpe July 14 kind lady letter live look mankind manner mind modesty nature ness never objects obliged observed OVID paper particular pass passions perfection person pleasant pleased pleasure Plutarch Plutus poet poor present racter reader reading reason received reflection Robert Viner satisfaction secret Sempronia sense shew sight soul SPECTATOR STEELE taste thing thou thought tion town VIRG Virgil virtue whole woman women words writing
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 363 - I have set the LORD always before me : because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Seite 349 - Alas ! poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio ; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy ; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.
Seite 218 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Seite 368 - Thus with the year Seasons return ; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But cloud instead, and everduring dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with a universal blank Of nature's works, to me expunged and rased, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
Seite 142 - Softly on my eyelids laid ; And, as I wake, sweet music breathe Above, about, or underneath, Sent by some spirit to mortals good, Or the unseen Genius of the wood.
Seite 369 - To daily fraud, contempt, abuse and wrong, Within doors, or without, still as a fool, In power of others, never in my own; Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day! O first created beam, and thou great Word, Let there be light, and light was over all; Why am I thus bereaved Thy prime decree?
Seite 74 - He can converse with a picture, and find an agreeable companion in a statue. He meets with a secret refreshment in a description, and often feels a greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields and meadows, than another does in the possession. It gives him indeed a kind of property in every thing he sees, and makes the most rude uncultivated parts of nature administer to his pleasures: so that he looks upon the world, as it were, in another light, and discovers in it a multitude of charms, that...
Seite 71 - OUR sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments.
Seite 349 - Alas! poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Seite 218 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still ; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade...