A series of genuine letters between Henry and Frances [by R. and E. Griffith].W. Richardson and L. Urquhart, 1770 |
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Seite 3
... thank God , I had neither Pain of Body or Mind to keep me waking . Yet I started often , and was , perhaps , more wretched than if I had felt actual Pain . In all Ills , both of Health and Fortune , one is glad to have any Thing to lay ...
... thank God , I had neither Pain of Body or Mind to keep me waking . Yet I started often , and was , perhaps , more wretched than if I had felt actual Pain . In all Ills , both of Health and Fortune , one is glad to have any Thing to lay ...
Seite 4
... my Letters alludes to . I have puzzled my Brain about it ever fince , and cannot recollect it . It blows a violent Storm at this Inftant . Thank It 4 LETTERS between fooner than I expected. Yet earnestly as I desire ...
... my Letters alludes to . I have puzzled my Brain about it ever fince , and cannot recollect it . It blows a violent Storm at this Inftant . Thank It 4 LETTERS between fooner than I expected. Yet earnestly as I desire ...
Seite 5
... thank you for them ; but I have not yet looked at the Numbers , nor fhall I , till the Whole is drawn ; because I would do fomething , once in my Life , like you . W LETTER DLXV . HENRY to FRANCES . Chefter , March 3 . E are just ...
... thank you for them ; but I have not yet looked at the Numbers , nor fhall I , till the Whole is drawn ; because I would do fomething , once in my Life , like you . W LETTER DLXV . HENRY to FRANCES . Chefter , March 3 . E are just ...
Seite 6
... Friends , in this Town , are all well , and fend their Compliments to you . I am , thank God , at perfect Eafe from my Cholic , though tired of my Journey already . We We fet out To - morrow . My Bleffing to 6 LETTERS between.
... Friends , in this Town , are all well , and fend their Compliments to you . I am , thank God , at perfect Eafe from my Cholic , though tired of my Journey already . We We fet out To - morrow . My Bleffing to 6 LETTERS between.
Seite 27
... thank God , there is nothing to be met with in them , which need give us Cause to be forry , when we shall , like his Spectres , become Spirits in Reality . I promised to be dull † , and I believe you'll think me a Man of Honour now ...
... thank God , there is nothing to be met with in them , which need give us Cause to be forry , when we shall , like his Spectres , become Spirits in Reality . I promised to be dull † , and I believe you'll think me a Man of Honour now ...
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Adieu againſt alfo almoſt anſwer aſked becauſe Bleffing Cafe Chefter Circumftances Clonmel confefs dear Fanny dear Harry dearest Diftrefs Diſorder Dublin expreffed Expreffion fafe faid fame feel feem feen fend fent feveral fhall fhould fince firft firſt fome fond foon forry FRANCES to HENRY Friend ftill fuch fuffered fufficient fuppofe fure Gordian Knot Happineſs Health Heart HENRY to FRANCES himſelf Holyhead hope Horſe Houſe Huſband incloſed itſelf Journey juft juſt Kilfane kind laft laſt leaft leaſt LETTER LETTER Love Mifs moft Morning moſt muft muſt myſelf never Night Number obferve Occafion Pacquet Paffage paffed Paffion Perfon Philofophy pleaſed Pleaſure Poffeffion poffibly Poft poor Poſt prefent Purpoſe racter Reaſon received Reft render ſay Scarborough ſee ſeem ſeen Senfe ſhall ſhe ſome ſpeak Spirit ſtill ſuch thank thefe theſe Thing thofe thoſe Town uſed Wind wiſh write Yeſterday yourſelf
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 212 - Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land...
Seite 33 - Twas then, O Solitude, to thee His early vows were paid, From heart sincere, and warm, and free, Devoted to the shade. Ah why did Fate his steps decoy In stormy paths to roam, Remote from all congenial joy !— O take the Wanderer home.
Seite 32 - To you, ye wastes, whose artless charms Ne'er drew Ambition's eye, Scap'da tumultuous world's alarms, To your retreats I fly. Deep in your most sequester'd bower Let me at last recline, Where Solitude, mild, modest Power, Leans on her ivy'd shrine.
Seite 34 - Breaks from the rustling boughs, And down the lone vale sails away To more profound repose. " O, while to thee the woodland pours Its wildly warbling song, And balmy from the bank of flowers The Zephyr breathes along; Let no rude sound invade from far, No vagrant foot be nigh, No ray from Grandenr's gilded car Flash on the startled eye.
Seite 33 - Fair! Thy heavenly smile how win ! Thy smile, that smooths the brow of Care, And stills the storm within. O wilt thou to thy favourite grove Thine ardent votary bring, And bless his hours, and bid them move Serene, on silent wing.
Seite 32 - Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur pil'd High o'er the glimmering dale ; Ye woods, along whose windings wild Murmurs the solemn gale : Where Melancholy strays forlorn, And Woe retires to weep, What time the wan Moon's yellow horn Gleams on the western deep : " To you, ye wastes, whose artless charms Ne'er drew ambition's eye, Scap'da tumultuous world's alarms, To your retreats...
Seite 15 - I find the Booksellers will give nothing worth taking for it. Mr. J has tried them. They say that they do not dispute the Merit of it, but that while the Public continue equally to buy a bad thing as a good one, they do not think an Author can reasonably expect that they will make a Difference in the Price.
Seite 100 - As the bright stars, and milky way, • Show'd by the night, are hid by day : So we in that accomplish'd mind, HehVd by the night, new graces find, Which by the splendor of her view, Dazzled before, we never knew.
Seite 33 - Ah ! why did fate his fteps decoy, In ftormy paths to roam, Remote from all congenial joy ! — O take thy wanderer home. Henceforth thy awful haunts be mine ! The long-abandon'd hill ; The hollow cliff, whofe waving pine O'er hangs the darkfome rill ; Whence the fcar'd owl on pinions grey.
Seite 191 - I suppose, as he did me, on the Second Day of our Acquaintance. But, in truth, there was nothing in the Affair worth making a Secret of — The World that knew of their Correspondence, knew the worst of it, which was merely a simple Folly. Any other Idea of the Matter would be more than the most abandoned Vice could render probable. To intrigue with a Vampire! To sink into the Arms of Death alive!