Say, ye oppressed by some fantastic woes, Some jarring nerve that baffles your repose, Who press the downy couch while slaves advance With timid eye to read the distant glance, Who with sad prayers the weary doctor tease To name the nameless, ever-new disease, Who with mock patience dire complaints endure, Which real pain and that alone can cure, How would you bear in real pain to lie Despised, neglected, left alone to die? How would you bear to draw your latest breath Where all that's wretched paves the way to death?—Crabbe. It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. Through one of the obscurest quarters of London, and among haunts little loved by the gentlemen of the police, a man, evidently of the lowest orders, was wending his solitary way. He stopped twice or thrice at different shops and houses of a description correspondent with the appearance of the quartier in which they were situated, and tended inquiry for some article or another which did not seem easily to be met with. All the answers he received were couched in the negative; and as he turned from each door he muttered to himself, in no very elegant phraseology, his disappointment and discontent. At length, at one house, the landlord, a sturdy butcher, after rendering the same reply the inquirer had hitherto received, added, "But if this vill do as vell, Dummie, it is quite at your sarvice!" Pausing reflectively for a moment, Dummie responded that he thought the thing proffered might do as well; and thrusting it into his ample pocket, he strode away with as rapid a motion as the wind and the rain would allow. He soon came to a nest of low and dingy buildings, at the entrance to which, in half-effaced characters, was written "Thames Court." Halting at the most conspicuous of these buildings, an inn or alehouse, through the half-closed windows of which blazed out in ruddy comfort the beams of the hospitable hearth, he knocked hastily at the door. He was admitted by a lady of a certain age, and endowed with a comely rotundity of face and person.
Ryan's photograph had been replaced with Justin Timberlake's. "Get in Synch with Justin on Earthly Pleasures," read the caption. “What are you gaping at?
Just like I know Justin Timberlake. I met him once. But I don't know him.” He nodded. “He's in the business. Geez, you people. So now the police are going ...
There was one sexy Maxwell hit after the next, a few Lionel Richie classics, some— thing by India.Arie and Justin Timberlake, and, of course, John Legend.
A few years ago the department hosted a lip-sync challenge to a Justin Timberlake song, and nearly a hundred community members took part in the video.
... Timberlake's cat and how she climbs up the curtains,” Corrie offered. Kyle looked entranced by that idea. Sam had just reached the doorway when Kyle ...
“I'll tell him all about Mrs. Timberlake's cat and how she climbs up the curtains,” Corrie offered. Kyle looked entranced by that idea.
Before Farrah could even agree, Justin Timberlake was blaring at her down the phone. Farrah wasn't sure if she liked the thought of strange organisations ...
Who will triumph in an election fraught with passion, duplicity and unexpected revelations? A big novel about a small town, The Casual Vacancy is J.K. Rowling's first novel for adults. It is the work of a storyteller like no other.
La magia vera c'era stata. ... Se conoscete la canzone Timbaland, Nelly Furtado ft Justine Timberlake capirete la natura del ballo e che il seguito furono ...
Soudain la musique changea, passant sur Can't Stop the Feeling ! de Justin Timberlake. ... C'est la chanson du film Les Trolls, crut-elle bon de préciser.