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Updated: June 4, 2025
"But the Britannia's the only hotel that has one." "My friend's palazzo has a courtyard garden with a wonderful old marble well-head, and beautiful statues," said the Prince. "He and his wife are coming to call on you to-morrow, and you will have the opportunity of thanking them for their gondola.
I discussed the problem after breakfast as I sat and smoked my pipe in the heathery garden of Strathmyrtle, a shooting-lodge at which we were being hospitably entertained by Kitty's uncle, Sir John Rubislaw, a retired Admiral of the Fleet, whose forty years' official connection with Britannia's realm betrayed itself in a nautical roll, syncopated by gout, and what I may describe as a hurricane-deck voice.
Although he shows skill and charm of style in various kinds of verse, his name rests chiefly upon his largest work, 'Britannia's Pastorals. This is much wider in scope than the title suggests, if one follows the definition given by Pope in his 'Discourse on Pastoral Poetry. He says: "A Pastoral is an imitation of the action of a shepherd or one considered under that character.
COLUMBIA and BRITANNIA Have ceased from Warfare wild; No more in battle's rage they meet, The parent and the child. Each gallant nation now lament The heroes who have died. But the brave, on the wave, Shall yet in friendship ride, To bear BRITANNIA'S ancient name, And swell COLUMBIA'S pride.
After much discussion it was agreed that the device should consist of a very small jack in the top corner, and in the middle a crown with a wooden leg under it the timber toe being in both Westlake's and Plum's opinion the most pregnant symbol of Britannia's greatness that the imagination could devise. Within a few months of his landing from the frigate out of which he had been paid, Mr.
The first lines, I think, ran thus: "'Let others envy Caesar's lot; To wander through Britannia's dales And be snowed up in Scythian vales Is Caesar's taste I'd rather not?"
There used to be one such turret near the summit of Campden Hill; but that familiar imposture was rased a year or two ago, no one protesting. Fuit the frantic factitious sentimentalism for ruins. On the other hand, the sentiment for them is as strong as ever it was. Decrepit Carisbrooke and its rivals annually tighten their hold on Britannia's heart. I do not grudge them their success.
The Queen calls the news "fatal," and with something of the fond exaggeration of a daughter, writes of the dead man as "England's rather Britannia's pride, her glory, her hero, the greatest man she ever had produced." We can understand it, when we remember how closely connected he was with all her previous career, from her cradle till now.
The first lines, I think, ran thus: "'Let others envy Caesar's lot; To wander through Britannia's dales And be snowed up in Scythian vales Is Caesar's taste I'd rather not?"
"Mais cela me rend folle," she murmured. "Do you know the air? It's the 'Bridge of Lodi, and we are to dance 'Britannia's Triumph' to it. Come, Mademoiselle, since the 'Triumph' is nicely mixed, let your captive lead you."
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