The Sporting magazine; or Monthly calendar of the transactions of the turf, the chace, and every other diversion interesting to the man of pleasure and enterprize

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Side 262 - Heavens ! what a goodly prospect spreads around, Of hills, and dales, and woods, and lawns, and spires, And glittering towns, and gilded streams, till all The stretching landscape into smoke decays...
Side 141 - Their notion of its perfect rest. A convent, even a hermit's cell, Would break the silence of this dell : It is not quiet, is not ease ; But something deeper far than these : The separation that is here Is of the grave ; and of austere Yet happy feelings of the dead : And, therefore, was it rightly said That Ossian, last of all his race ! Lies buried in this lonely place.
Side 361 - That God and Nature have put into our hands!" What ideas of God and Nature that noble lord may entertain, I know not; but I know, that such detestable principles are equally +abhorrent to religion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and Nature...
Side 283 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Side 196 - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Side 361 - ... that particular ports must be actually invested, and previous warning given to vessels bound to them, not to enter.
Side 35 - A hundred voices joined the shout; With hark and whoop and wild halloo. No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. Far from the tumult fled the roe; Close in her...
Side 131 - ... the old familiar faces. Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood, Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse, Seeking to find the old familiar faces. Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? So might we talk of the old familiar faces.
Side 408 - RED o'er the forest peers the setting sun. The line of yellow light dies fast away That crowned the eastern copse : and chill and dun Falls on the moor the brief November day.
Side 263 - But, ere his fleet career he took, The dewdrops from his flanks he shook; Like crested leader proud and high Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; A moment gazed adown the dale, A moment snuffed the tainted gale, A moment listened to the cry, That thickened as the chase drew nigh; Then, as the headmost foes appeared, With one brave bound the copse he cleared, And, stretching forward free and far, Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.

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