A Walk from London to Fulham |
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Admiral afterwards ancient appears artist Bartolozzi Baylis became Bishop of London Bradshaigh Brompton Grove Brompton Row built called Charles Church Cottage Craven Cottage Crescent Crofton Croker curious death died drawing-room Earl England engraved Faulkner feet formerly garden gentleman girth Golden Lion ground Grove House Hammersmith Hans Place honourable Hook Kensington King's Road Knightsbridge Lady Lane late letter literary Little Chelsea Lodge London Lord Lord Shaftesbury Luttrell Lysons Madame main Fulham Road mansion memory mentioned Michael's Place Miss Landon Munster House North End occupied Old Brompton opposite Ozias Humphrey painted parish Park Parson's Green portrait present Pryor's Bank public-house published remarkable residence Riego Robert Lowth Rosamond's Bower Royal says Schiavonetti Shaftesbury side Sir John Sir Walter sketch Sloane Street Square stood Street Theodore Hook Thomas Thomas Crofton Croker tion tree Villa Walham Green walk wall widow William
Popular passages
Page 208 - THE DESCRIPTION OF AN IRISH FEAST. TRANSLATED ALMOST LITERALLY OUT OF THE ORIGINAL IRISH. 1720. O ROURKE'S noble fare Will ne'er be forgot By those who were there, Or those who were not.
Page 112 - Her cheeks so rare a white was on, No daisy makes comparison, (Who sees them is undone ;) For streaks of red were mingled there, Such as are on a cath'rine pear ; (The side that's next the sun.) Her lips were red, and one was thin, Compar'd to that was next her chin (Some bee had stung it newly...
Page 29 - Each home-felt joy that life inherits here; Yet from the same we learn, in its decline, Those joys, those loves, those interests, to resign; Taught, half by reason, half by mere decay, To welcome death, and calmly pass away.
Page 102 - Memoirs of the Lives, Intrigues, and Comical Adventures of the most famous Gamesters and celebrated Sharpers in the Reigns of Charles II., James II., William III., and Queen Anne...
Page xiii - At breakfast, Crofton Croker, author of the Irish Fairy Tales — little as a dwarf, keen-eyed as a hawk, and of easy, prepossessing manners — something like Tom Moore.
Page 116 - The mistress of this seminary was perhaps one of the most extraordinary women that ever graced, or disgraced, society ; her name was Meribah Lorrington. She was the most extensively accomplished female that I ever remember to have met with ; her mental powers were no less capable of cultivation than superiorly cultivated. Her father, whose name was Hull, had from her infancy been the master of an academy at Earl's Court, near Fulham ; and early after his marriage losing his wife, he resolved on giving...
Page 141 - The laurell, mirtle, ivy, date, which hold Their leaves all winter, be it ne'er so cold. The firre, that oftentimes doth rosin drop : The beech that scales the welkin with his top ; All these, and thousand more within this grove, By all the industry of nature strove To frame an arbour that might keepe within it The best of beauties that the world hath in it.
Page 75 - In 1818 the Admiral Keppel courted the custom of passing travellers by a poetical appeal to the feelings of both man and beast:— " Stop, brave boys, and quench your thirst; If you won't drink, your horses murst." There was something rural in this: the distich was painted in very rude white letters on a small black board ; and when Keppel's portrait, which swung in air, like England's flag, braving " The battle and the breeze," was unhinged and placed against the front of the house, this board was...
Page 116 - I felt for her a very sincere affection, and I listened with peculiar attention to all the lessons she inculcated. Once I recollect her mentioning the particular failing which disgraced so intelligent a being. She pleaded, in excuse of it, the immitigable regret of a widowed heart, and with compunction declared that she flew to intoxication as the only refuge from the pang of prevailing sorrow.
Page 56 - But this grave is so desolate, With no remembering stone, No fellow-graves for sympathy — 'Tis utterly alone. I do not know who sleeps beneath, His history or name — Whether if, lonely in his life, He is in death the same : Whether he died unloved, unmourned, The last leaf on the bough ; Or, if some desolated hearth Is weeping for him now.