Quarterly Review, Volume 103

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John Murray, 1858
 

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Page 206 - The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Page 69 - On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod the Arcadian plain. Pure stream ! in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave...
Page 299 - Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow; so indeed he did. The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy; But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, Caesar cried, 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!
Page 196 - And angling, too, that solitary vice, Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says: The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.
Page 298 - Don't you consider, Sir, that these are not the manners of a gentleman ? I will not be baited with what and why ; what is this ? what is that ? why is a cow's tail long? why is a fox's tail bushy ?" The gentleman, who was a good deal out of countenance, said, " Why, Sir, you are so good, that I venture to trouble you.
Page 400 - And he gave it for his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.
Page 207 - The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt by a mouse after the first shake of the cat. It caused a sort of dreaminess, in which there was no sense of pain nor feeling of terror, though quite conscious of all that was happening.
Page 107 - Thy spirit, Independence ! let me share, Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye ! Thy steps I follow 'with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Page 133 - In every parish is (or was) a church-house, to which belonged spits, crocks, &c., utensils for dressing provision. Here the housekeepers met and were merry, and gave their charity. The young people were there too, and had dancing, bowling, shooting at butts, &c., the ancients sitting gravely by, and looking on.
Page 281 - I am absolutely certain that my mode of biography, which gives not only a History of Johnson's visible progress through the world, and of his publications, but a view of his mind in his letters and conversations, is the most perfect that can be conceived, and will be more of a Life than any work that has ever yet appeared.

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