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Updated: May 7, 2025
Moxon tells us that when the old church was pulled down and the figures were removed, Lamb shed tears. The figures I am told still exist in the garden of the villa in Regent's Park "St. Dunstan's" that once belonged to the Marquis of Hertford and is now the Earl of Londesborough's London House. Miss Pearson kept a toy-shop at No. 7 Fleet Street.
Presently Moxon, whose play it was, raised his hand high above the board, pounced upon one of his pieces like a sparrow-hawk and with the exclamation "checkmate!" rose quickly to his feet and stepped behind his chair. The automaton sat motionless. The wind had now gone down, but I heard, at lessening intervals and progressively louder, the rumble and roll of thunder.
Moxon was to be the publisher, himself something of a poet; but early in 1842 he had not yet received the MS. Perhaps Emerson heard of Tennyson through Carlyle, who, says Sterling, "said more in your praise than in any one's except Cromwell, and an American backwoodsman who has killed thirty or forty people with a bowie-knife."
She says that the sound of my poetry is stirring the 'deep green forests of the New World; which sounds pleasantly, does it not? And I understand from Mr. Moxon that a new edition will be called for before very long, only not immediately.... Your affectionate and grateful friend, ELIBET. Arabel and Mr. Hunter talk of paying you a visit some day. To Mrs. Martin April 3, 1845. My dearest Mrs.
Moxon, who publishes them, as was very fairly shown in a number of the Westminster Review, when noticing Mr. Jordan's book. What we have said is strictly related to Mr. Thackeray's lectures, which discuss literature. All the men he commemorated were illustrations and exponents of the career of letters. They all, in various ways, showed the various phenomena of the temperament.
It has seemed to me sometimes that those whom we call fortunate are the least happy, and that the hard lot is often lifted into the sphere of blessedness. Consider Mr. and Mrs. Moxon; they appear to have nothing to be thankful for, and yet in their devotion to one another what perfect peace and consolation!" "Oh, Bessie, but it is a dreadful fate!" said Harry.
The soft, vivid turf was oozy there, and the long-rooted stones were clothed with wet, rusted moss. The few cottages of the hamlet wore deep hoods of thatch, and stood amongst prosperous orchards; one of them, a little larger than the rest, being the habitation of Mr. Moxon, the vicar of Littlemire, whose church, dame-school, and income were all of the same modest proportions as his dwelling.
Without it " "Major Moxon," said an officer, entering and saluting, "the General presents his compliments, and desires to know why his repeated orders in regard to the furloughing of men have been so persistently disregarded." "Because," said the Surgeon, getting purplish-red about the cheeks and nose, " because the matter's one which I consider outside of his province beyond his control, sir.
Only I was not thinking of them, in preferring what may strike you as an extravagant paradox, but of Tennyson's returns from Moxon last year, which I understand amounted to five hundred pounds. To be sure, 'In Memoriam' was a new success, which should not prevent our considering the fact of a regular income proceeding from the previous books.
The various Poems and Dramas have received the author's most careful revision. December 1848. In 1850, in Florence, he wrote 'Christmas Eve and Easter Day'; and in December 1851, in Paris, the essay on Shelley, to be prefixed to twenty-five supposed letters of that poet, published by Moxon in 1852.* * They were discovered, not long afterwards, to be spurious, and the book suppressed.
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