Think's-I-to-myself, a serio-ludicro, tragico-comico tale, written by Think's-I-to-myself, Who?, Zväzok 1Law and Gilbert ... and sold by Sherwood, Neely and Jones, 1811 - 206 strán (strany) |
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Think's-I-to-myself, a serio-ludicro, tragico-comico tale, written ..., Zväzok 1 Edward Nares Úplné zobrazenie - 1811 |
Think's-I-to-myself, a serio-ludicro, tragico-comico tale, written ..., Zväzok 1 Edward Nares Úplné zobrazenie - 1811 |
Think's-I-to-myself, a serio-ludicro, tragico-comico tale, written ..., Zväzok 1 Edward Nares Úplné zobrazenie - 1811 |
Časté výrazy a frázy
Aberdeen amuse ball Barony Basaltic began believe better Big Beelzebub bumping cack carriage certainly clod-pole confess course Creepmouse curtsey dance Dash daughter dead silence dear mama dear mother Delia delighted Dermont dine Edinburgh Emily Mande Emily Mandeville extremely eyes father and mother fear felt Grumblethorpe Hall happy Hargrave heart heir apparent hope I-to-myself invited knew ladies looked mean Meekin messen mind Miss Charlevilles Miss Fidgets Miss Mandeville Miss Twist Miss Watson morning mouth neighbourhood neighbours ness never Nicotium Castle night partners party passed plain pleasure pleurisy poor mother pray pretty reader says my father Scotland seemed servant sister soon suppose sure talking tell ther thing Thinks-I-to Thinks-I-to-my Thinks-I-to-myself thou thought tion took tremely turned Vicarage walked whole wish worthy young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 19 - FATHER of all ! in every age, In every clime ador'd, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord...
Strana 153 - In truth he was a strange and wayward wight, Fond of each gentle, and each dreadful scene. In darkness, and in storm, he found delight : Nor less, than when on...
Strana 153 - Even sad vicissitude amused his soul : And if a sigh would sometimes intervene, And down his cheek a tear of pity roll, A sigh, a tear, so sweet, he wish'd not to control.
Strana 23 - Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes. spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world, Crack Nature's moulds, all germains spill at once, That makes ingrateful man!