Otras ediciones - Ver todas
admirable ancient Ann Bishop appeared arms beautiful bosom called Ceres character charm Chatsworth Cirrostratus clouds colour Covent Garden dame daugh daughter death ditto Don Giovanni earth Elgin Marbles Elphin English eyes fair farmer feeling Felltreeo French give hand hath head heard heart heaven Holborn honour hour Joachim du Bellay John King lady land late less living London look Lord Lord Byron ment mind morning Myrrha nature neral never night o'er observed Olivier de Magny passed person play poem poet poods present racter rain rose-tree round Sardanapalus scene seems side smile song soul spirit sweet tale taste thee ther thing thou thought tion ture verses voice Vols wild wind witchcraft witches words young
Página 419 - Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending...
Página 419 - Peace"— but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Página 418 - I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
Página 419 - The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable, and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry peace! peace!
Página 419 - Peace, peace ! ' — but there is no peace : the war is actually begun ! — The next gale that sweeps from the north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms...
Página 90 - The seasons alter : hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose : And on old Hyems' chin and icy crown, An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set.
Página 171 - ... else ; I must do it, as it were, in such weight, measure and number, even so perfectly, as God made the world ; or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea presently sometimes with pinches, nips, and bobs, and other ways (which I will not name for the honour I bear them) so without measure mis-ordered, that I think myself in hell, till time come that I must go to Mr.
Página 419 - We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the Throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult, our supplications have been disregarded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the Throne.
Página 304 - It is altogether a speculative scene of things, which has no reference whatever to the world that is.
Página 22 - ... about upon the fresh grass, with all the fine garden smells around me ; or basking in the orangery, till I could almost fancy myself ripening, too, along with the oranges and the limes in that grateful warmth ; or in watching the dace that darted to and fro in the fish-pond at the bottom of the garden, with here and there a great sulky pike hanging midway down the water in silent state, as if it mocked at their impertinent friskings.