Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Bind 14 |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-5 af 72
Side 23
Forbid the thought , ye sand pities that Cruikshank did not shades of Bunbury and
Gilray ! -for- publish his first livraison of the " Points bid it , even thou , if thou be
still in of Humour ” two or three years ago ; the land of the living , Good Dighton ...
Forbid the thought , ye sand pities that Cruikshank did not shades of Bunbury and
Gilray ! -for- publish his first livraison of the " Points bid it , even thou , if thou be
still in of Humour ” two or three years ago ; the land of the living , Good Dighton ...
Side 27
... as he my face THE FLOWER OF GNIDO . So dreads , or so abhors . 1 . 7 . “
Had I the sweet resounding lyre , “ In snows on rocks , sweet Flower of Whose
voice could in a moment chain Gnide , The howling wind's ungovern'd ire , Thou
wert ...
... as he my face THE FLOWER OF GNIDO . So dreads , or so abhors . 1 . 7 . “
Had I the sweet resounding lyre , “ In snows on rocks , sweet Flower of Whose
voice could in a moment chain Gnide , The howling wind's ungovern'd ire , Thou
wert ...
Side 29
Say thou , that its fierce might Is oft - times found so little of a foe , So storms my
heart that it must yield , ere That , at the moment when I might regain long , A life
of freedom , I caress my chain , Even to a foe more terrible and strong ; And curse
...
Say thou , that its fierce might Is oft - times found so little of a foe , So storms my
heart that it must yield , ere That , at the moment when I might regain long , A life
of freedom , I caress my chain , Even to a foe more terrible and strong ; And curse
...
Side 31
Piacciavi , generosa Erculea prole , “ Good seed of Hercules , give ear and deign
, Ornamento , e splendor del secol nostro , Thou that this age's grace and
splendour art , Ippolito , aggradir questo , che vuole , Hippolitus , to smile upon
his ...
Piacciavi , generosa Erculea prole , “ Good seed of Hercules , give ear and deign
, Ornamento , e splendor del secol nostro , Thou that this age's grace and
splendour art , Ippolito , aggradir questo , che vuole , Hippolitus , to smile upon
his ...
Side 37
Why call'st thou me at midnight's hour ?Yet , I confess , I scarcely know what
charm 0 ! let me live till day ! -- Arrested me , as I refused your arm . Is it not time
when morn has sprung ? ( They make love . [ She stands up Mar. The night
draws on .
Why call'st thou me at midnight's hour ?Yet , I confess , I scarcely know what
charm 0 ! let me live till day ! -- Arrested me , as I refused your arm . Is it not time
when morn has sprung ? ( They make love . [ She stands up Mar. The night
draws on .
Hvad folk siger - Skriv en anmeldelse
Vi har ikke fundet nogen anmeldelser de normale steder.
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
appear beautiful believe body called cause character Church course daughter death doubt Edinburgh England English eyes face fact fair fear feel give hand head hear heard heart honour hope hour human Italy John King lady land late least less letter light live London look Lord manner matter means ment mind morning nature never night NORTH object once party pass perhaps person play poor present purch question reason Review round seems seen short side soon speak spirit stand sure tell thing thou thought tion true turn vice Whig whole wish write young
Populære passager
Side 332 - And every one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and every one that was discontented, gathered themselves unto him; and he became a captain over them: and there were with him about four hundred men.
Side 257 - THE measure is English heroic verse without rime, as that of Homer in Greek, and of Virgil in Latin, — rime being no necessary adjunct or true ornament of poem or good verse, in longer works especially, but the invention of a barbarous age, to set off wretched matter and lame metre...
Side 375 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Side 258 - ... apt numbers, fit quantity of syllables, and the sense variously drawn out from one verse into another...
Side 460 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
Side 461 - John Keats, who was killed off by one critique, Just as he really promised something great, If not intelligible, without Greek Contrived to talk about the gods of late, Much as they might have been supposed to speak. Poor fellow ! His was an untoward fate ; 'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.
Side 463 - Angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be born so: I mean, with inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by discourse and practice : but he that hopes to be a good angler, must not only bring an inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he must bring a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; but having once got and practised it, then doubt not but Angling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove to be, like virtue, a reward to itself.
Side 465 - With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest; The groves already did rejoice, In Philomel's triumphing voice, The showers were short, the weather mild, The morning fresh, the evening smiled. Joan takes her neat-rubbed pail, and now She trips to milk the sand-red cow; Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain, Joan strokes a syllabub or twain; The fields and gardens were beset With tulips, crocus, violet; And now, though late, the modest rose Did more than half a blush disclose. Thus all looks gay, and full...
Side 460 - IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love.
Side 465 - Nature seem'd in love: The lusty sap began to move; Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines, And birds had drawn their valentines, The jealous Trout, that low did lie, Rose at a well dissembled fly; There stood my friend with patient skill, Attending of his trembling quill.