The New sporting magazine, Volume 12

Couverture
1837
 

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Expressions et termes fréquents

Fréquemment cités

Page 414 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Page 414 - She was a Phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight; A lovely Apparition sent To be a moment's ornament; Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair; Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn; A dancing Shape, an Image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
Page 149 - Law Tracts. A man might as well think of making a fine sauce by a mixture of wormwood and aloes, as an agreeable composition by joining metaphysics and Scotch law. However, the book, I believe, has merit ; though few people will take the pains of diving into it.
Page 63 - ... is swelled into jolly dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats, in which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one reaching to his heels. He wears a broad-brimmed lowcrowned hat, a huge roll of coloured handkerchief about his neck, knowingly knotted and tucked in at the bosom ; and has in summer time a large bouquet of flowers in his button-hole ; the present, most probably, of some enamoured country lass.
Page 35 - A singular and unavoidable manner of doing or saying any thing, Peculiar and Natural to one Man only, by which his Speech and Actions are distinguished from those of other men.
Page 63 - He has commonly a broad full face, curiously mottled with red, as if the blood had been forced by hard feeding into every vessel of the skin ; he is swelled into jolly dimensions by frequent potations of malt liquors, and his bulk is still further increased by a multiplicity of coats in which he is buried like a cauliflower, the upper one reaching to his heels.
Page 299 - WHEN Time, who steals our years away, Shall steal our pleasures too, The memory of the past will stay, And half our joys renew.
Page 278 - ... day ; he receives a chicken for his hawk, a peck of oats for his horse, and a loaf of bread for his greyhound. They all dine ; after which the master blows three blasts with his horn, and...
Page 353 - Warwickshire, are also included in their beat. Our readers are doubtless aware that such portion of a county as is hunted by any one pack of hounds is technically called their country ; and of all the countries in the world, the Quorn certainly bears the bell.
Page 140 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.

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