The Southern literary messenger, Том 81842 |
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Сторінка 26
... heart . " Yes , he shall feel my power this night , though in early days he scarce acknowledged it let me see if ... heart's undivided homage . did the mirror's reflection cause her heart to exult , Bend down , my beautiful sister , and ...
... heart . " Yes , he shall feel my power this night , though in early days he scarce acknowledged it let me see if ... heart's undivided homage . did the mirror's reflection cause her heart to exult , Bend down , my beautiful sister , and ...
Сторінка 28
... heart of Carrol Stanley ; the ser- pent had at last coiled around the firmest resolve of Herbert Cameron ; her victory was complete ! Parties and balls are generally deemed trifling and innocent in their effects ; every feeling engen ...
... heart of Carrol Stanley ; the ser- pent had at last coiled around the firmest resolve of Herbert Cameron ; her victory was complete ! Parties and balls are generally deemed trifling and innocent in their effects ; every feeling engen ...
Сторінка 29
... heart sank into shrine of the spoiled belle , who scarce knew the an almost pulseless state , when the sorrowful con- value of such an affection . viction of his loss pressed so heavily on him . When he remembered there was left him no ...
... heart sank into shrine of the spoiled belle , who scarce knew the an almost pulseless state , when the sorrowful con- value of such an affection . viction of his loss pressed so heavily on him . When he remembered there was left him no ...
Сторінка 30
... heart to root affection out ; ' to tear away that love , which , like a tendril , clings to the heart . Bitter indeed is it to be called upon to re- nounce as unworthy , the object of one's adoration ; but such I find , Evelyn , the ...
... heart to root affection out ; ' to tear away that love , which , like a tendril , clings to the heart . Bitter indeed is it to be called upon to re- nounce as unworthy , the object of one's adoration ; but such I find , Evelyn , the ...
Сторінка 31
... heart . The moon , then just in her perfect crescent , guided him with her placid light through the gar- den : with a cold shudder he passed the fatal bower , and almost breathless from his painfully crowding thoughts , he reached the ...
... heart . The moon , then just in her perfect crescent , guided him with her placid light through the gar- den : with a cold shudder he passed the fatal bower , and almost breathless from his painfully crowding thoughts , he reached the ...
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Abbas Mirza admiration American appeared arms beautiful Brackenridge British called cause character Christian Cicero command Corolinn dark death deep Demosthenes Dragut duty earth effect eloquence enemies England Evelyn Everington eyes fair favor fear feeling flowers friends genius give Goletta Greece Hamors hand happiness heard heart heaven honor hope hour human labor light lips living look Lord Aberdeen Mehedia ment mind moral Mordante nations nature Navy ness never night o'er object officers once orator passed peace persons poem poet popular present prince Quintuple Alliance racter readers rience right of search scarcely seemed ships slave slave-trade smile soon sorrow soul Southern Literary Messenger Spain spirit sweet tears thee thing thou thought tion Tripoli true truth vessels voice whole words write young youth
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 23 - The voice at midnight came, He started up to hear ; A mortal arrow pierced his frame — He fell, but felt no fear.
Сторінка 41 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile, she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Сторінка 57 - MAIDENHOOD. mAIDEN ! with the meek brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies, Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet...
Сторінка 247 - But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free. Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word; And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be. Come when his task of fame is wrought; Come with her laurel-leaf...
Сторінка 40 - While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd, With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon, Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez, and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
Сторінка 153 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Сторінка 302 - And wi' the lave ilk merry morn Could rank my rig and lass, Still shearing, and clearing The tither stocked raw, Wi' claivers, an' haivers, Wearing the day awa : Ev'n then a wish, (I mind its power,) A wish that to my latest hour Shall strongly heave my breast ; That I for poor auld Scotland's sake, Some usefu' plan, or beuk could make, Or sing a sang at least.
Сторінка 41 - St Agnes' Eve — Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold : Numb were the Beadsman's fingers, while he told His rosary, and while his frosted breath, Like pious incense from a censer old, Seem'd taking flight for heaven, without a death, Past the sweet Virgin's picture, while his prayer he saith...
Сторінка 82 - No, faith, not a jot ; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: As thus; Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust ; the dust is earth ; of earth we make loam : And why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel...
Сторінка 245 - Strong sense, deep feeling, passions strong, A hate of tyrant and of knave, A love of right, a scorn of wrong, Of coward and of slave ; A kind, true heart, a spirit high, That could not fear and would not bow, Were written in his manly eye And on his manly brow.