The Fudge Family in Paris

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1818 - 168 pages
 

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Page 163 - Was this, then, the fate of that high-gifted man, The pride of the palace, the bower, and the hall — The orator, dramatist, minstrel, — who ran Through each mode of the lyre, and was master of all.
Page 148 - Fendent les flots tremblants sous un si noble poids. Louis, les animant du feu de son courage, Se plaint de sa grandeur qui l'attache au rivage.
Page 160 - Oh ! it sickens the heart to see bosoms so hollow, And spirits so mean in the great and highborn ; To think what a long line of titles may follow The relics of him who died — friendless and lorn ! How proud they can press to the fun'ral array Of one, whom they shunn'd in his sickness and sorrow : — .How bailiffs may seize his last blanket, to-day, Whose pall shall be held up by nobles, tomorrow...
Page 163 - Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as bright, " Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade ; — " Whose eloquence — bright'ning whatever it tried, " Whether reason or fancy, the gay or the grave, — " Was as rapid, as deep, and as brilliant a tide, " As ever bore Freedom aloft on its wave...
Page 162 - Were it not for that cordial and soul-giving beam, Which his friendship and wit o'er thy nothingness cast : — ' No, not for the wealth of the land, that supplies thee With millions to heap upon Foppery's shrine ; — M No, not for the riches of all who despise thee, Tho...
Page 115 - I've been told That she liv'd to much more than a hundred and ten, And was kill'd by a fall from a cherry-tree then ! What a frisky old girl...
Page 45 - twixt pleasure and fright, That there came up — imagine, dear Doll, if you can — A fine sallow, sublime, sort of Werter-fac'd man, With mustachios that gave (what we read of so oft,) The dear Corsair expression, half savage, half soft...
Page 14 - Verbatim from one of the noble Viscount's Speeches — " And now, Sir, I must embark into the feature on which this question chiefly hing'es.
Page 164 - In the woods of the North there are insects that prey On the brain of the elk till his very last sigh ;M Oh, Genius ! thy patrons, more cruel than they, First feed on thy brains, and then leave thee to die!
Page 41 - Bias in Flora — dear creature — you'd swear, When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round, That her steps are of light, that her home is the air, AnoT she only par complaisance touches the ground.

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