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Seite 50 - The dew, the blossom on the tree, With charms inconstant shine ; Their charms were his, but woe to me, Their constancy was mine. "For still I tried each fickle art, Importunate and vain ; And while his passion touch'd my heart, I triumph'd in his pain.
Seite 139 - I had some knowledge of music, with a tolerable voice ; I now turned what was once my amusement into a present means of subsistence. I passed among the harmless peasants of .Flanders, and among such of the French as were poor enough to be very merry ; for I ever found them sprightly in proportion to their wants. Whenever I approached a peasant's house towards nightfall, I played one of my most merry tunes, and that procured me not only a lodging, but subsistence for the next day.
Seite 48 - Alas ! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay; And those who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. "And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?
Seite 113 - This person was no other than the philanthropic bookseller in St. Paul's Church-yard,* who has written so many little books for children : he called himself their friend ; but he was the friend of all mankind. He was no sooner alighted, but he was in haste to be gone ; for he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually compiling materials for the history of one Mr. Thomas Trip. I immediately recollected this good-natured man's red-pimpled face...
Seite 105 - The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To every Christian eye ; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That show'd the rogues they lied, The man recover'd of the bite, The dog it was that died.
Seite 47 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. " For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go." " Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom. " Here to the houseless child of want My door is open still; And though my portion is but scant, I give it with good will.
Seite 166 - When lovely woman stoops to folly. And finds, too late, that men betray. What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover. To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, — is to die.
Seite 75 - no more silver than your saucepan." " And so," returned she, " we have parted with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases ! A murrain take such trumpery ! The blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company better I " " There, .my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not- have known them at all.
Seite 24 - Our little habitation was situated at the foot of a sloping hill, sheltered with a beautiful underwood behind, and a prattling river before ; on one side a meadow, on the other a green.
Seite 104 - Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song ; And if you find it wond'rous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he -Went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes ; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes.