Sketches of the History of Literature: From the Earliest Period to the Revival of Letters in the Fifteenth Century

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J.S. Simpson, 1827 - 344 стор.
 

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Сторінка 128 - Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.
Сторінка 156 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Сторінка 303 - Then turning, I to them my speech address'd, And thus began : * Francesca! your sad fate Even to tears my grief and pity moves. But tell me; in the time of your sweet sighs, By what, and how Love granted, that ye knew Your yet uncertain wishes ?* She replied : * No greater grief than to remember days Of joy, when misery is at hand.
Сторінка 204 - Cold is Cadwallo's tongue, That hush'd the stormy main : Brave Urien sleeps upon his craggy bed : Mountains, ye mourn in vain Modred, whose magic song Made huge Plinlimmon bow his cloudtopt head. On dreary Arvon's shore they lie, Smear'd with gore, and ghastly pale : Far, far aloof th' affrighted ravens sail ; The famish'd eagle screams, and passes by.
Сторінка 33 - The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth. 6 The heavens declare his righteousness, and all the people see his glory.
Сторінка ii - BBOWN, of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to wit : " Sertorius : or, the Roman Patriot.
Сторінка 56 - Blest as th' immortal gods is he, The youth who fondly sits by thee, And hears and sees thee all the while Softly speak and sweetly smile.
Сторінка 56 - One may see by what is left of them, that she followed nature in all her thoughts, without descending to those little points, conceits, and turns of wit with which many of our modern lyrics are sox miserably infected.
Сторінка 56 - Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And rais'd such tumults in my breast ; For while I gaz'd, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost : My bosom glow'd ; the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; My ears with hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd ; My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd ; My feeble pulse forgot to play ; I fainted, sunk, and died away.
Сторінка 57 - O VENUS, beauty of the skies, To whom a thousand temples rise, Gaily false in gentle smiles, Full of love-perplexing wiles ; O goddess ! from my heart remove The wasting cares and pains of love.

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