Edinburgh Fugitive Pieces

Portada
William Creech; and T. Cadell, London, 1791 - 295 pàgines
 

Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya

No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.

Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot

Frases i termes més freqüents

Passatges populars

Pàgina 290 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Pàgina 211 - Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot...
Pàgina 113 - AWAKE, my St. John ! leave all meaner things To low ambition and the pride of kings. Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man ; A mighty maze ! but not without a plan ; A wild where weeds and flowers promiscuous shoot, Or garden tempting with forbidden fruit.
Pàgina 160 - Ask where's the North? at York, 'tis on the Tweed; In Scotland, at the Orcades; and there, At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where.
Pàgina 71 - A ftranger may be accommodated not only comfortably, but moft elegantly, at many public hotels ; and the perfon who in 1763 was obliged to put up with accommodation little better than that of a waggoner or carrier, may now be lodged like a prince, and command every luxury of life — His guinea, it muft be owned, will not go quite fo far as it did in 1763.
Pàgina 52 - RONDEAU. BY two black eyes my heart was won, Sure never wretch was more undone...
Pàgina 144 - ... errors, and are firmly refolved to be more on our guard in time coming. In fhort, Sunday is only a day of reft, from worldly concerns, in order to be more ufefully employed upon thofe that are internal. Sunday accordingly is a day of account ; and a candid account every " cipiamus innocentiae voluntatem, et ab omni nos labe de" lictorum omnium amputatione purgemus.
Pàgina 189 - Be my tongue mute, my fancy paint no more, And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! Should fate command me to the fartheft verge Of the green earth, to diftant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to fong; where firft the fun Gilds Indian mountains, or his fetting beam Flames on th...
Pàgina 189 - tis nought to me : Since GOD is ever prefent, ever felt, In the void wafte as in the city full ; And where HE vital breathes there muft be joy.
Pàgina 64 - To the north, there was no bridge i and (till of late) the New Town, with all its elegant and magnificent buildings, fquares, rows, courts, &c. extending upwards of a mile in length, and near half a mile in breadth, did not exift f. It may with truth be faid, that there is not now NOTES.

Informació bibliogràfica