Routledge's guide to London and its suburbs

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Página 209 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run...
Página 169 - Yet Burlington's fair palace still remains ; Beauty within, without proportion, reigns. Beneath his eye declining art revives, The wall with animated picture lives ; There Handel strikes the strings, the melting strain Transports the soul, and thrills through every vein ; There oft I enter, (but with cleaner shoes,) For Burlington's belov'd by every Muse.
Página 125 - Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts, and blood, Drowned puppies, stinking sprats, all drenched in mud, Dead cats, and turnip-tops, come tumbling down the flood.
Página 226 - FOR SUPPORTING AND EDUCATING THE CHILDREN OF SOLDIERS, SAILORS, AND MARINES, NATIVES OF SCOTLAND, WHO HAVE DIED OR BEEN DISABLED IN THE SERVICE OF THEIR COUNTRY, AND OF INDIGENT SCOTCH PARENTS, RESIDENT IN LONDON, NOT ENTITLED TO PAROCHIAL RELIEF.
Página 34 - Sir, if you wish to have a just notion of the magnitude of this city, you must not be satisfied with seeing its great streets and squares, but must survey the innumerable little lanes and courts. It is not in the showy evolutions of buildings, but in the multiplicity of human habitations which are crowded together, that the wonderful immensity of London consists.
Página 11 - A politician thinks of it merely as the seat of government in its different departments ; a grazier, as a vast market for cattle ; a mercantile man, as a place where a prodigious deal of business is done upon 'Change ; a dramatick enthusiast, as the grand scene of theatrical entertainments ; a man of pleasure, as an assemblage of taverns, and the great emporium for ladies of easy virtue.
Página 3 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Página 11 - I have often amused myself with thinking how different a place London is to different people. They whose narrow minds are contracted to the consideration of some one particular pursuit view it only through that medium. A politician thinks of it merely as...
Página 117 - As clever Tom Clinch, while the rabble was bawling, Rode stately through Holborn to die in his calling, He stopt at the George for a bottle of sack, And promised to pay for it when he came back.
Página 200 - St. George's Fields are fields no more ; The trowel supersedes the plough ; Swamps, huge and inundate of yore, Are changed to civic villas now.

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