Literary Amusements: In Verse and Prose

Εξώφυλλο
J. Dodsley., 1787 - 76 σελίδες
 

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Επιλεγμένες σελίδες

Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων

Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις

Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα

Σελίδα 16 - Of law there can be no less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power...
Σελίδα 53 - RYNO The wind and the rain are past: calm is the noon of day. The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstant sun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream of the hill. Sweet are thy murmurs, O stream! but more sweet is the voice I hear. It is the voice of Alpin, the son of song, mourning for the dead!
Σελίδα 51 - ALONE, on the sea-beat rock, my daughter was heard to complain. Frequent and loud were her cries. What could her father do? All night I stood on the shore. I saw her by the faint beam of the moon.
Σελίδα 5 - Epifodes of a greater Work which related to the Wars of Fingal, Concerning this Hero innumerable Traditions remain, to this Day, in the Highlands of Scotland. The...
Σελίδα 55 - A tree with scarce a leaf, long grass which whistles in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar.
Σελίδα 21 - Connal ? and who recount thy fathers ? Thy family grew like an oak on the mountain, which meeteth the wind with its lofty head. But now it is torn from the earth.
Σελίδα 8 - This is robbery. The second by commerce, which is generally cheating. The third by agriculture, the only honest way, wherein man receives a real increase of the seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of continual miracle...
Σελίδα 7 - It is believed, that, by a careful inquiry, many more remains of ancient genius, no lefs valuable than thofe now given to the world, might .be found in the fame country where thefe have been collected.
Σελίδα 47 - Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream! why should I stay behind?
Σελίδα 24 - Oscian, prince of men! what tears run down the cheeks of age? what shades thy mighty soul? Memory, son of Alpin, memory wounds the aged. Of former times are my thoughts; my thoughts are of the noble Fingal.

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