Bentley's Miscellany, المجلد 7

الغلاف الأمامي
Charles Dickens, William Harrison Ainsworth, Albert Smith
Richard Bentley, 1840
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الصفحة 577 - A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
الصفحة 276 - What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? And, little town, thy streets for evermore / Will silent be; and not a soul to tell Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
الصفحة 252 - THERE are no colours in the fairest sky So fair as these. The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an Angel's wing.
الصفحة 552 - And thou, too, whosoe'er thou art, That readest this brief psalm, As one by one thy hopes depart, Be resolute and calm. O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long, Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
الصفحة 507 - Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think, there be six Richmonds in the field ; Five have I slain to-day, instead of him: — A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! [Exeunt.
الصفحة 374 - The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: or be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl.
الصفحة 284 - Victory; and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity after Victory be the predominant feature in the British Fleet. For myself, individually, I commit my life to Him, who made me, and may his blessing light upon my endeavours for serving my Country faithfully. To him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen. Amen. Amen.
الصفحة 276 - Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
الصفحة 252 - Oh could we copy their mild virtues, then What joy to live, what blessedness to die! Methinks their very names shine still and bright ; Apart — like glow-worms on a summer night; Or lonely tapers when from far they fling A guiding ray; or seen — like stars on high, Satellites burning in a lucid ring Around meek Walton's heavenly memory.
الصفحة 271 - wide awake" In an instant ; for, when only decently drunk, Nothing sobers a man so completely as

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