The New Monthly Magazine, Том 2E. Littell, 1822 |
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Сторінка 5
... passing all understanding , he allow- ed at the same time , that it might be of the Alexandrian school . - Vide Her- mann's Orphica , p . 680 . By Euripides , Med . 543. Iphig . in Aulide , 1711. In Rhes . 943. By Aris- tophanes , Ran ...
... passing all understanding , he allow- ed at the same time , that it might be of the Alexandrian school . - Vide Her- mann's Orphica , p . 680 . By Euripides , Med . 543. Iphig . in Aulide , 1711. In Rhes . 943. By Aris- tophanes , Ran ...
Сторінка 24
... passed some time with him among his gipsy associates , had been admitted to him in prison , and learnt the Lament , which he hoped would engage the popu- lace to assist his friends in delivering him from the civil power , when ...
... passed some time with him among his gipsy associates , had been admitted to him in prison , and learnt the Lament , which he hoped would engage the popu- lace to assist his friends in delivering him from the civil power , when ...
Сторінка 36
... passed on every individual imme- diately after death , in what they call the Particular Judgment . At this critical moment the Virgin Mary presented herself in a black mantle , similar to that which she wore in the picture , but sadly ...
... passed on every individual imme- diately after death , in what they call the Particular Judgment . At this critical moment the Virgin Mary presented herself in a black mantle , similar to that which she wore in the picture , but sadly ...
Сторінка 48
... or a sage in criticism , who expends his judgment or his spleen on the passing litera- ture of the stage , but opens with a lament upon the decay of dramatic talent - a most mistaken idea , or more 48 French and English Tragedy .
... or a sage in criticism , who expends his judgment or his spleen on the passing litera- ture of the stage , but opens with a lament upon the decay of dramatic talent - a most mistaken idea , or more 48 French and English Tragedy .
Сторінка 56
... passed in my life were spent on its bosom one sweet June morning , when the light clouds seemed following and folding the sun in a thousand veils of shadowy alabaster , and the soft air was loaded with fragrance from gardens which were ...
... passed in my life were spent on its bosom one sweet June morning , when the light clouds seemed following and folding the sun in a thousand veils of shadowy alabaster , and the soft air was loaded with fragrance from gardens which were ...
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Популярні уривки
Сторінка 60 - Yet simple Nature to his hope has given, Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heaven; Some safer world in depth of woods embraced, Some happier island in the watery waste, Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold. To Be, contents his natural desire, He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.
Сторінка 478 - Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlour splendours of that festive place: The white-washed wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnished clock that clicked behind the door: The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day...
Сторінка 212 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Сторінка 128 - Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass, Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, A torch at the great temple's dedication. I need not ask thee if that hand, when...
Сторінка 129 - And standest undecayed within our presence, Thou wilt hear nothing till the Judgment morning, When the great Trump shall thrill thee with its warning! Why should this worthless tegument endure, If its undying guest be lost for ever ? O let us keep the soul embalmed and pure In living virtue ; that, when both must sever.
Сторінка 128 - How the world looked when it was fresh and young, And the great Deluge still had left it green — Or was it then so old, that History's pages Contained no record of its early ages ? Still silent, incommunicative elf ? Art sworn to secrecy...
Сторінка 166 - Their breath is agitation, and their life A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last, And yet so nursed and bigoted to strife, That should their days surviving perils past, Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast With sorrow and supineness, and so die; Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste With its own flickering, or a sword laid by, Which...
Сторінка 174 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Сторінка 441 - Thou shalt ° not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn.
Сторінка 60 - Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutored mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind: His soul, proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk or Milky Way: Yet simple Nature to his hope has given. Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heaven...