Ainsworth's Magazine, Volume 1

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William Harrison Ainsworth
Chapman and Hall, 1842
 

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Page 293 - How often have I paused on every charm, The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topped the neighboring hill, The hawthorn-bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made!
Page 294 - You haste away so soon: As yet the early-rising Sun Has not attained his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having prayed together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Page 96 - I have not leisure to write much. But I could chide thee that in many of thy Letters thou writest to me, That I should not be unmindful of thee and thy little ones. Truly, if I love you not too well, I think I err not on the other hand much. Thou art dearer to me than any creature; let that suffice.
Page 174 - King Stephen was a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he call'd the tailor lown. He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree: Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
Page 222 - Sir, — I cannot but think myself singularly obliged, by a gentleman with whom I have not the pleasure of being acquainted, when I read your very curious and kind letter, which I have this minute received.
Page 173 - Murder? Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is ; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
Page 167 - ... were carved on the tops of the handles. Such as were at once opulent and generous, gave the whole twelve; those who were either more moderately rich or liberal, escaped at the...
Page 279 - No word the old man utters, — His earnest eyes grow dim ; One spot beyond the salt sea Is present now to him. There blooms the earliest primrose, His father's grave hard by ; There lieth all his kindred, There he shall never lie. The living mass moves onward, The Lady and her train ; They press upon her path still, To look and look again. Yet on she moves securely, No guards are needed there ; Of her they hem so closely They would not harm a hair. Be blessings on that Lady ! Be blessings on that...
Page 64 - I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink, This many and many a year; And those three are plagues enough, one would think, For one poor mortal to bear.
Page 180 - The fountains of divine philosophy Fled not his thirsting lips, and all of great, Or good, or lovely, which the sacred past In truth or fable consecrates, he felt And knew.

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