The London Magazine, and Monthly Chronologer, 4. köide

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C. Ackers, 1735
 

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Page 269 - The pack wide opening load the trembling air With various melody ; from tree to tree The propagated cry redoubling bounds, And winged zephyrs waft the floating joy...
Page 268 - Avow the recent trail, the justling tribe Attend his call, then with one mutual cry, The welcome news confirm, and echoing hills Repeat the pleasing tale.
Page 94 - Her topics from the Tories draws. O yes ! if any man can find More virtues in a woman's mind, Let them be sent to Mrs. Harding ; ' She'll pay the charges to a farthing ; Take notice, she has my commission To add them in the next edition ; They may outsell a better thing : So, holla, boys ; God save the King ! CLEVER «TOM CLINCH, GOING TO BE HANGED.
Page 324 - Dispers'd, how busily this way, and that, They cross, examining with curious nose Each likely haunt. Hark ! on the drag I hear Their doubtful notes, preluding to a cry More nobly full, and swell'd with every mouth.
Page 276 - And whereas another act was passed in the sixteenth year of the reign of King George the Second, intituled, " An act to indemnify persons who have omitted to qualify themselves for offices and employments within the time limited by law, and for allowing further time for that purpose ; and...
Page 382 - Breathless and faint, he falters in his pace, And lifts his weary limbs with pain, that scarce Sustain their load ; he pants, he sobs appall'd ; Drops down his heavy head to earth, beneath His cumbrous beams oppress'd.
Page 332 - Convey'd through undulating air The music's only in the ear. We're told how planets roll on high, How large their orbits, and how nigh ! I hope in little time to know Whether the moon's a cheese, or no...
Page 325 - Tis there the villain lurks ; they hover round And claim him as their own. Was I not right...
Page 106 - Lane, but extraordinary business prevented her coming. Being alone when the play was done, she bade a boy call a coach for the city. One dressed like a gentleman helps her into it, and jumps in after her.
Page 324 - Tis triumph all and joy. Now, my brave youths, Now give a loose to the clean generous steed ; Flourish the whip, nor spare the galling spur ; But, in the madness of delight, forget Your fears.

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