The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, Svazky 44–45Joseph Rogerson |
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AIGUILLETTE Alençons lace amongst appear asked Audley End beautiful beneath better called Caussade charming Chéri colour Court Crystal Palace daughter dear dress Dymock England English eyes face Fairwood father feel flowers garden girl graceful Gratia green Grey hand Hans Memling happy head hear heard heart honour hope James II King knew lace lady laughed leaves light living look Lord Louis XIV Madame Magdalen marriage ment mind Miss morning mother never night Northcote once passed poor present racter Ralph Fitch replied rich rose round scarcely scene seemed Shooter's Hill side sister smile song spirit stood sweet Sydney Smith tell things thou thought tion told trees turned Tuxford Vanda voice walk Walwyn whilst window wish woods words young
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Strana 64 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side. But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all ; And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds and led the way.
Strana 95 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Strana 183 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low, And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Strana 94 - And the beginning of his kingdom was Babel, and Erech, and Accad, and Calneh, in the land of Shinar.
Strana 24 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Strana 64 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Strana 61 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth...
Strana 310 - I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up: while I suffer thy terrors I am distracted.
Strana 61 - And thick around the woodland hymns arise. Roused by the cock, the soon-clad shepherd leaves His mossy cottage, where with Peace he dwells; And from the crowded fold, in order, drives His flock, to taste the verdure of the morn.
Strana 138 - Or, turning to the Vatican, go see Laocoon's torture dignifying pain — A father's love and mortal's agony With an immortal's patience blending : — Vain The struggle ; vain, against the coiling strain And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp, The old man's clench ; the long envenomed chain Rivets the living links, — the enormous asp Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp.