Accepted Addresses; Or, Proemium Poetarum: To which are Added, Macbeth Travestie, in Three Acts, and Miscellanies, by Different HandsThomas Tegg, 1813 - 195 sider |
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Side 3
... LORD , AS I now have the honour to be , By man'ging a playhouse a DOUBLE M. P. In this , my address , I think fit to complain Of certain encroachments on GREAT Drury Lane ; A third winter playhouse , your lordship well knows , That I ...
... LORD , AS I now have the honour to be , By man'ging a playhouse a DOUBLE M. P. In this , my address , I think fit to complain Of certain encroachments on GREAT Drury Lane ; A third winter playhouse , your lordship well knows , That I ...
Side 4
... lord , ' tis as bad , for he strikes in the back . He gave Ph - p Ast - y ( in cash he abounds ) For his wooden construction , ' bout three thousand pounds ; And having white - wash'd and embellish'd the same , Has borrow'd a LITTLE of ...
... lord , ' tis as bad , for he strikes in the back . He gave Ph - p Ast - y ( in cash he abounds ) For his wooden construction , ' bout three thousand pounds ; And having white - wash'd and embellish'd the same , Has borrow'd a LITTLE of ...
Side 24
... of this address , then , from the dead , And let it be with due attention read ; Nor dare , when the Reviewers trouble thee , To trouble us ----- Adieu- Remember me . ADDRESS VIII . Lord Th- -w to Miss B - 24 ACCEPTED ADDRESSES .
... of this address , then , from the dead , And let it be with due attention read ; Nor dare , when the Reviewers trouble thee , To trouble us ----- Adieu- Remember me . ADDRESS VIII . Lord Th- -w to Miss B - 24 ACCEPTED ADDRESSES .
Side 25
... Lord Th- -w to Miss B - lt - n . I WOULD I'd the pen of Lord B — r — n , To sing all the charms of my syren ; For then all her charms shou'd be caroll'd , In metre as sweet as " Childe Harolde.- But I am a poor kind of poet , And this ...
... Lord Th- -w to Miss B - lt - n . I WOULD I'd the pen of Lord B — r — n , To sing all the charms of my syren ; For then all her charms shou'd be caroll'd , In metre as sweet as " Childe Harolde.- But I am a poor kind of poet , And this ...
Side 26
... Lord ! " and your Lord then was by— And I the fond hope entertain , Of making you cry out again . As I am determined to wed ye , The ring I have purchased already , For fear in my hurry , dear soul , I'd forget it like W poor -y P A ...
... Lord ! " and your Lord then was by— And I the fond hope entertain , Of making you cry out again . As I am determined to wed ye , The ring I have purchased already , For fear in my hurry , dear soul , I'd forget it like W poor -y P A ...
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Accepted Addresses, Or Proemium Poetarum: To Which Are Added, Macbeth ... Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2016 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
ADDRESS Art thou Ballinderry Banquo bell bless bonnet boughs brave bright burlettas Carlisle wall CHARLES KINGSLEY CHARLES MACKAY cheek cried dead dear door doth ELIZA COOK Enter Macbeth eyes fair on Carlisle farewell fear Fleance friar give green things growing Gwenwynwyn hair hand happy haste hath head heart heaven hobby JOHNSON King kissed Lady Macbeth land Lenox light Lochinvar look Lord lover MACBETH TRAVESTIE Macduff maid maiden Malcolm morning mother mournfully Murderer Nautilus ne'er Netherby never night o'er Ochone old familiar faces poor pray river Dee Rolla rose round Royalty Theatre sail SAMUEL LOVER Servant sing Siward smile solitude of Binnorie song soul stay sun shines fair sure sweet tear tell Thane of Cawdor thee THEOBALD There's thine thou'st thought tree Twas Vauxhall violets wear wind woman word wou'd young
Populære passager
Side 146 - Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Side 150 - By this the storm grew loud apace; The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men — Their trampling sounded nearer. "Oh! haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Side 148 - 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.
Side 178 - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big, manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange, eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Side 176 - Had cheer'd the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glowworm by his spark ; So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
Side 177 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits, and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school: And then, the lover; Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress...
Side 150 - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, — When, oh ! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.
Side 148 - But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring : And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. 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.
Side 165 - That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry: For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
Side 145 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast...