The New Monthly Magazine, 4. kötetE. Littell, 1822 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 100 találatból.
4. oldal
... light - hearted and loving , That caught even Pleasure , as round her he flew . I gazed , till enchanted I sprang to her side , And besought her to say where her mates had all flown ; - " Alas , " — and she blushed as she softly replied ...
... light - hearted and loving , That caught even Pleasure , as round her he flew . I gazed , till enchanted I sprang to her side , And besought her to say where her mates had all flown ; - " Alas , " — and she blushed as she softly replied ...
7. oldal
... light the charmed air , Leading young Love with her ? Ah ! who can spare His wonder other breath than deep - drawn sighs ? And when on me her looks in softness beam , My rising hopes Love only may declare ; And such a quiet meekness ...
... light the charmed air , Leading young Love with her ? Ah ! who can spare His wonder other breath than deep - drawn sighs ? And when on me her looks in softness beam , My rising hopes Love only may declare ; And such a quiet meekness ...
16. oldal
... light in his genius , of a quality peculiarly calculated to shine in those dark and tempestuous times . The familiar and almost daily indulgence of the fiercer passions begot a corresponding avidity for emotion in the pic- tures of ...
... light in his genius , of a quality peculiarly calculated to shine in those dark and tempestuous times . The familiar and almost daily indulgence of the fiercer passions begot a corresponding avidity for emotion in the pic- tures of ...
19. oldal
... light was closing , And its aspect , to use a French phrase , was imposing , Its magnificent portals , majestic and wide , Through which Temple - bar without stooping might ride → Its houses of such Brobdignagian height That they make ...
... light was closing , And its aspect , to use a French phrase , was imposing , Its magnificent portals , majestic and wide , Through which Temple - bar without stooping might ride → Its houses of such Brobdignagian height That they make ...
30. oldal
... light , and as we passed through the camps of the different regiments on the road - side , we were received with loud cheers . The night of my arrival was , I think , the most miserable I ever spent . The rain had been falling in ...
... light , and as we passed through the camps of the different regiments on the road - side , we were received with loud cheers . The night of my arrival was , I think , the most miserable I ever spent . The rain had been falling in ...
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Népszerű szakaszok
530. oldal - She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
363. oldal - Ceremony, Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread...
135. oldal - Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted, Love was the very root of the fond rage Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed: Itself expired, but leaving them an age Of years all winters, — war within themselves to wage.
38. oldal - Vanbrugh , and is a good example of his heavy though imposing style (*Lie heavy on him, Earth, for he Laid many a heavy load on thee"), with a Corinthian portico in the centre and two projecting wings.
399. oldal - The pattern grows, the well-depicted flower, Wrought patiently into the snowy lawn, Unfolds its bosom ; buds, and leaves, and sprigs, And curling tendrils, gracefully disposed, Follow the nimble finger of the fair — A wreath that cannot fade, of flowers that blow With most success when all besides decay.
443. oldal - ve sworn by our country's assaulters, By the virgins they 've dragg'd from our altars, By our massacred patriots, our children in chains, By our heroes of old and their blood in our veins, That living, we shall be victorious, Or that dying, our deaths shall be glorious. A breath of submission we breathe not; The sword that we 've drawn we will sheathe not ! Its scabbard is left where our martyrs are laid, And the vengeance of ages has whetted its blade.
443. oldal - AGAIN to the battle, Achaians ! Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance ; Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree — It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free : For the cross of our faith is replanted, The pale dying crescent is daunted, And we march that the foot-prints of Mahomet's slaves May be washed out in blood from our forefathers
161. oldal - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
443. oldal - Till we've trampled the turban, and shown ourselves worth Being sprung from and named for the godlike of earth. Strike home, and the world shall revere us As heroes descended from heroes.
426. oldal - A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o