New Monthly Magazine, and Universal Register, Svazek 4Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth, William Ainsworth Henry Colburn, 1822 |
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Strana 16
... never persuade me that a French theatre was the habitation of Satan ; and , if we may judge by those sentiments and passages which they mark with applause , there never was a people in whom the feelings of patriotism and moral princi ...
... never persuade me that a French theatre was the habitation of Satan ; and , if we may judge by those sentiments and passages which they mark with applause , there never was a people in whom the feelings of patriotism and moral princi ...
Strana 35
... never would know my green bonnet again ; The silk is all cover'd with spots , and the feather Flaps down like a lily in boisterous weather : The lining's not hurt , so I mean to unrip it ; But the surge has quite ruin'd my white ...
... never would know my green bonnet again ; The silk is all cover'd with spots , and the feather Flaps down like a lily in boisterous weather : The lining's not hurt , so I mean to unrip it ; But the surge has quite ruin'd my white ...
Strana 40
... never verge upon the ridiculous . Mrs. Henry Tighe's poem of " Psyche " is elegant and tender - languidly poetical like the mind of its author , which pined under the wasting disease of a slow consumption . There was not vigour enough ...
... never verge upon the ridiculous . Mrs. Henry Tighe's poem of " Psyche " is elegant and tender - languidly poetical like the mind of its author , which pined under the wasting disease of a slow consumption . There was not vigour enough ...
Strana 41
... never properly to have any sense of the present , but to feel the great realities as they pass away , casting their delicate shadows on the future . Time , then , is only a notion - unfelt in its passege — a mere measure The elegant ...
... never properly to have any sense of the present , but to feel the great realities as they pass away , casting their delicate shadows on the future . Time , then , is only a notion - unfelt in its passege — a mere measure The elegant ...
Strana 46
... never was young because he is grown old , or never lived because he is now dead . The length or agreeableness of a journey does not depend on the few last steps of it , nor is the size of a building to be judged of from the last stone ...
... never was young because he is grown old , or never lived because he is now dead . The length or agreeableness of a journey does not depend on the few last steps of it , nor is the size of a building to be judged of from the last stone ...
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admiration Æsop ancient appears beauty breath called Callinus character church death delight Doddington Dublin effect Elgin Marbles England English Epic poetry eyes fair fancy father favour feel feet flowers French garden genius give Greek Greek poetry hand happy head heart Heaven Hesiod honour hope hour human imagination King lady letter light live London look Lord lover lyre Lyric poetry Martyr of Antioch Megabyzus Michel Angelo mind Mont Blanc morning mountain nature never night o'er object observed once passed passion Père La Chaise perhaps Petrarch pleasure Plutarch poem poet poetical poetry possess present Queen racter reader round Sallanche scene seems shew smile song sonnet soul spirit sweet taste Terpander thee thing thou thought tion town Velant verses Voltaire whole young youth
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 419 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise...
Strana 495 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Strana 241 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones...
Strana 485 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Strana 242 - ... Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining ? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither- sow'd nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine...
Strana 241 - God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbrued; And Dunbar field, resounds thy praises loud. And Worcester's laureate wreath : yet much remains To conquer still ; Peace hath her victories No less renowned than War: new foes arise, Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains. Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves, whose Gospel is their maw.
Strana 241 - LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.
Strana 240 - CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed...
Strana 75 - I sit by and sing. Or gather rushes to make many a ring For thy long fingers; tell thee tales of love, How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove, First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes She took eternal fire that never dies ; How she convey'd him softly in a sleep.
Strana 555 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.