The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, Volume 28Joseph Rogerson |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 82
Page
... true and beautiful book for any season , much more for Christ- mas , when the hearts of all who may read it are likely to be in a peculiarly fit temper to understand its wise and genial philosophy , and sympathize with the deep spirit ...
... true and beautiful book for any season , much more for Christ- mas , when the hearts of all who may read it are likely to be in a peculiarly fit temper to understand its wise and genial philosophy , and sympathize with the deep spirit ...
Page 4
... true I have talked with this stranger of the island , and he is glorious beyond words to express . He is not like men - is the eagle like the sparrow ? " ness . The next evening , Marcelly's ears being sharpened probably by an itching ...
... true I have talked with this stranger of the island , and he is glorious beyond words to express . He is not like men - is the eagle like the sparrow ? " ness . The next evening , Marcelly's ears being sharpened probably by an itching ...
Page 7
... true . The love of anything higher and more spiritual than are man's daily aspirations , is fraught with suspicion and contempt to its entertainer . He who sets out in life with loftier views than his fellows , has to encourage them ...
... true . The love of anything higher and more spiritual than are man's daily aspirations , is fraught with suspicion and contempt to its entertainer . He who sets out in life with loftier views than his fellows , has to encourage them ...
Page 11
... true her words were few , but there was ever something in Mary Beaufort's voice , at least when it was not marred by bitterness , which went to the heart ; it was low , rich , and some- what melancholy in its cadence - the very echo of ...
... true her words were few , but there was ever something in Mary Beaufort's voice , at least when it was not marred by bitterness , which went to the heart ; it was low , rich , and some- what melancholy in its cadence - the very echo of ...
Page 19
... true poet could have written his song over Fidele , in Shakspeare's Cymbeline . " " A low , sad , and prophetic note runs through the music of all his poetry , which was sometimes strangely sweet , and full of a wild , figurative , and ...
... true poet could have written his song over Fidele , in Shakspeare's Cymbeline . " " A low , sad , and prophetic note runs through the music of all his poetry , which was sometimes strangely sweet , and full of a wild , figurative , and ...
Contents
1 | |
9 | |
16 | |
25 | |
33 | |
45 | |
51 | |
55 | |
62 | |
64 | |
65 | |
83 | |
110 | |
120 | |
129 | |
131 | |
137 | |
143 | |
151 | |
156 | |
158 | |
163 | |
166 | |
172 | |
178 | |
186 | |
190 | |
193 | |
199 | |
206 | |
257 | |
264 | |
273 | |
279 | |
290 | |
302 | |
306 | |
309 | |
316 | |
321 | |
324 | |
331 | |
338 | |
345 | |
354 | |
355 | |
362 | |
364 | |
368 | |
378 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
beautiful beneath black lace blonde lace breath bride bright brow burgomaster capotes charming child church Cimarosa colour corsage Countess of Blessington dark dear death deep door dream dress earth exclaimed eyes face fancy father fear feel flowers gaze gentle George girl Grace hand happy head hear heard heart heaven Helen Faucit honour hope Horace hour husband lace lady laugh Leyburn light look lover mantelet Mariette marriage mind Miss morning morning dress mother muslin never night o'er once pale passed passementerie poor Puritani quadrille racter redingote ribbon robe rose round Ruth satin scene seemed side silent sister skirt sleeves smile Sophy sorrow soul spirit Stephen Leigh stood sweet taffeta tears tell thee things thou thought tion tone trimmed uncon velvet voice wife wild woman wonder words young youth
Popular passages
Page 118 - For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse : could we make her as the man, Sweet love were slain : his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; The man be more of woman, she of man...
Page 254 - I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all in white; And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash of light : They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what they say, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o
Page 202 - O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or, mirrored in the ocean vast, A thousand fathoms down ! As fresh in yon horizon dark, As young thy beauties seem. As when the eagle from the ark First sported in thy beam. For, faithful to its sacred page, Heaven still rebuilds thy span • Nor lets the type grow pale with age That first spoke peace to man.
Page 190 - The Cypress and her spire; —Of flowers that with one scarlet gleam Cover a hundred leagues, and seem To set the hills on fire. The Youth of green savannahs spake, And many an endless, endless lake, With all its fairy crowds Of islands, that together lie As quietly as spots of sky Among the evening clouds.
Page 137 - IT is the first mild day of March : Each minute sweeter than before, The redbreast sings from the tall larch That stands beside our door. There is a blessing in the air, Which seems a sense of joy to yield To the bare trees, and mountains bare And grass in the green field.
Page 190 - Her father took another mate ; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted child, at her own will Went wandering over dale and hill, In thoughtless freedom, bold.
Page 190 - He was a lovely youth ! I guess The panther in the wilderness Was not so fair as he ; And, when he chose to sport and play, No dolphin ever was so gay Upon the tropic sea.
Page 18 - The latter part of his life cannot be remembered but with pity and sadness. He languished some years under that depression of mind which enchains the faculties without destroying them, and leaves reason the knowledge of right without the power of pursuing it.
Page 254 - I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break; But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay, For I'm to be Queen o...
Page 136 - I COME, I come ! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountains with light and song ! Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves, opening as I pass.