Tickler, Or, Monthly Compendium of Good Things, in Prose and Verse: Blending, (with Many Original Articles of Interest and Amusement,) a Compilation from the Most Esteemed Authors of Former Times : with a Selection from the Most Approved Works of Present Day; and Forming an Elegant Repository for the Flowers of Ancient and Modern Literature..., Volumes 1-3Printed and published for the proprietors by G. Morgan, 1818 |
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Página 5
... spirit that improves , And brightens every gift by Fortune given ; That wander where it will , with those it loves , Makes every place a home , and home a Heaven ! All these were his -- Oh thou who read'st this THE TICKLER .
... spirit that improves , And brightens every gift by Fortune given ; That wander where it will , with those it loves , Makes every place a home , and home a Heaven ! All these were his -- Oh thou who read'st this THE TICKLER .
Página 14
... heaven - blue sea , As I never these fair young celestials have seen , Why this earth is the planet for you , love , As for those chilly orbs on the verge of creation , Where sunshine and smiles must be equally rare , Did they want a ...
... heaven - blue sea , As I never these fair young celestials have seen , Why this earth is the planet for you , love , As for those chilly orbs on the verge of creation , Where sunshine and smiles must be equally rare , Did they want a ...
Página 15
... Heaven ; Life's happiest destiny should be To our Augusta given : Grief and regret should flee- Oh impious wish , and vain ! regret is brief , For earthly ills , and transient earthly grief . What is our being here ? A meteor and a span ...
... Heaven ; Life's happiest destiny should be To our Augusta given : Grief and regret should flee- Oh impious wish , and vain ! regret is brief , For earthly ills , and transient earthly grief . What is our being here ? A meteor and a span ...
Página 35
... my name is Death ! At Church , I heard the Parson say , " No Man must work on Sabbath - day ; " But , Oh , good Heaven ! how he did work , When he got home , with knife and fork ! ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS E. BLACK WITH MR . THE TICKLER . 35.
... my name is Death ! At Church , I heard the Parson say , " No Man must work on Sabbath - day ; " But , Oh , good Heaven ! how he did work , When he got home , with knife and fork ! ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS E. BLACK WITH MR . THE TICKLER . 35.
Página 44
... heaven . BUSINESS OF A NEWSPAPER WRITER . “ Ehove it in my power , Sir , to appoint you to a very good situation on a Newspaper . It will not be very laborious , and you will receive three guineas a week . " Jam muchindebted to you ...
... heaven . BUSINESS OF A NEWSPAPER WRITER . “ Ehove it in my power , Sir , to appoint you to a very good situation on a Newspaper . It will not be very laborious , and you will receive three guineas a week . " Jam muchindebted to you ...
Termos e frases comuns
appeared asked Ballymun beauty Black Crows Bon Mots bosom breast breath called charms common scold cried daugh dead dear death delight door earth Epigrams Epitaphs Eumenes ev'ry fair father fear feel fire flower fortune gave Gelert gentleman give grace hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven Henry Jenkins Holywell Street honour hope horse hour husband Irish King lady late light live look Lord Lord Byron Madame Majesty marriage master mind morning ne'er never night o'er once passion person pleasure poor racter replied rose round Santry servant shew sigh smile soon sorrow soul spirit sure sweet tears tell thee thing THOMAS MOORE thou thought TICKLER MAGAZINE told took turn Twas twill Valmont virtue wife woman young youth Zounds
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 79 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast array'd, Each horseman drew his battle blade, And furious every charger neigh'd, To join the dreadful revelry.
Página 139 - How sweet the answer Echo makes To music at night, When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away, o'er lawns and lakes, Goes answering light. Yet Love hath echoes truer far, And far more sweet, Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn or lute, or soft guitar, The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere, And only then, — The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear, Is by that one, that only dear, Breathed back again ! OH BANQUET NOT.
Página 78 - 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.
Página 168 - In life can Love be bought with gold ? Are Friendship's pleasures to be sold ? No — all that's worth a wish, a thought, Fair Virtue gives, unbrib'd, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, Let nobler views engage thy mind.
Página 78 - 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.
Página 82 - Away in Beauty's Bloom OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Página 47 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells...
Página 78 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Página 38 - Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon When even the bees lag at the summoning brass ; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon, Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass...
Página 62 - The babe, the sleeping image of his sire. A few short years — and then these sounds shall hail The day again, and gladness fill the vale ; So soon the child a youth, the youth a man, Eager to run the race his fathers ran.