Tickler, Or, Monthly Compendium of Good Things, in Prose and Verse: Blending, (with Many Original Articles of Interest and Amusement,) a Compilation from the Most Esteemed Authors of Former Times : with a Selection from the Most Approved Works of Present Day; and Forming an Elegant Repository for the Flowers of Ancient and Modern Literature..., Объемы 1-3Printed and published for the proprietors by G. Morgan, 1818 |
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Стр. 8
... honour - Ha ! ha ! ha ! Heigh ho ! laughter is a pleasure , but the excrtion of it is too much for me . In the following fragment of dialogne , caeh individual speaks in his own peculiar cha- racter , Mr. Glowry . You are leaving ...
... honour - Ha ! ha ! ha ! Heigh ho ! laughter is a pleasure , but the excrtion of it is too much for me . In the following fragment of dialogne , caeh individual speaks in his own peculiar cha- racter , Mr. Glowry . You are leaving ...
Стр. 9
... honour of Ceres : and the Scotch gentleman told me ( and , faith , I believe he was right ) that I was a very great pedant for my pains . Now I'm come to the ladies , and to shew that I love Scot- land , and every thing that belongs to ...
... honour of Ceres : and the Scotch gentleman told me ( and , faith , I believe he was right ) that I was a very great pedant for my pains . Now I'm come to the ladies , and to shew that I love Scot- land , and every thing that belongs to ...
Стр. 12
... honour'd be that aged head , White with the venerable snows That four score years " have sternly shed ; Oh , doubly honour'd by the woes That left him but a shadowy throne , In storms , in darkness , and alone . And yet , tho " " quench ...
... honour'd be that aged head , White with the venerable snows That four score years " have sternly shed ; Oh , doubly honour'd by the woes That left him but a shadowy throne , In storms , in darkness , and alone . And yet , tho " " quench ...
Стр. 27
... honour and an example to the whole species . Reader , This stone is guiltless of flattery , for he to whom it is inscrib'd was not a Man , but a Greyhound ! ARIOSTO , the poet , built himself a small and plain house at Ferrara , and ...
... honour and an example to the whole species . Reader , This stone is guiltless of flattery , for he to whom it is inscrib'd was not a Man , but a Greyhound ! ARIOSTO , the poet , built himself a small and plain house at Ferrara , and ...
Стр. 33
... honour of a personal acquaintance , he was no stranger either to his name or his merit . " Quin then told him , he was come to sup with him , and 66 PRICE 6d . a that he had already ordered the Cook to pro- vide supper , which he hoped ...
... honour of a personal acquaintance , he was no stranger either to his name or his merit . " Quin then told him , he was come to sup with him , and 66 PRICE 6d . a that he had already ordered the Cook to pro- vide supper , which he hoped ...
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appeared asked Ballymun beauty Black Crows Bon Mots bosom breast breath called charms common scold cried daugh dead dear death delight door earth Epigrams Epitaphs Eumenes ev'ry fair father fear feel fire flower fortune gave Gelert gentleman give grace hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven Henry Jenkins Holywell Street honour hope horse hour husband Irish King lady late light live look Lord Lord Byron Madame Majesty marriage master mind morning ne'er never night o'er once passion person pleasure poor racter replied rose round Santry servant shew sigh smile soon sorrow soul spirit sure sweet tears tell thee thing THOMAS MOORE thou thought TICKLER MAGAZINE told took turn Twas twill Valmont virtue wife woman young youth Zounds
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Стр. 79 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast array'd, Each horseman drew his battle blade, And furious every charger neigh'd, To join the dreadful revelry.
Стр. 139 - How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o'er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light. Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere, And only then, — The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear, Is by that one, that only dear, Breathed back again ! OH BANQUET NOT.
Стр. 78 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
Стр. 168 - In life can Love be bought with gold ? Are Friendship's pleasures to be sold ? No — all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair Virtue gives, unbrib'd, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, Let nobler views engage thy mind.
Стр. 78 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Стр. 82 - Away in Beauty's Bloom OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Стр. 47 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells...
Стр. 78 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Стр. 38 - Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon When even the bees lag at the summoning brass ; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass...
Стр. 62 - The babe, the sleeping image of his sire. A few short years — and then these sounds shall hail The day again, and gladness fill the vale ; So soon the child a youth, the youth a man, Eager to run the race his fathers ran.