The New Monthly Magazine and Literary JournalHenry Colburn and Company, 1821 |
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Сторінка 2
... heart of Ulysses with the " tale of Troy , " till the hero wept , says Homer , § in one of his most beautiful and pro- longed similes , as a woman weeps over the husband of her love , who has fallen in battle , on whom she gazes as he ...
... heart of Ulysses with the " tale of Troy , " till the hero wept , says Homer , § in one of his most beautiful and pro- longed similes , as a woman weeps over the husband of her love , who has fallen in battle , on whom she gazes as he ...
Сторінка 10
... heart . What the human memory can retain of another's composition , it might certainly recollect of its own ; and this would be much more likely to be the case in the age of Homer than of Xeno- phon . Let us imagine all the ...
... heart . What the human memory can retain of another's composition , it might certainly recollect of its own ; and this would be much more likely to be the case in the age of Homer than of Xeno- phon . Let us imagine all the ...
Сторінка 13
... heart- sick swoon of Andromache , as it makes itself impetuously con- genial with the vengeance of Achilles . Like nature , he is fruit- ful in creating characters , and like her , impartial in distributing and intrusting virtues to ...
... heart- sick swoon of Andromache , as it makes itself impetuously con- genial with the vengeance of Achilles . Like nature , he is fruit- ful in creating characters , and like her , impartial in distributing and intrusting virtues to ...
Сторінка 17
... heart , -whose base , ungen'rous blood , Cold as thy marble - impotent to save , Live , all unworthy of the soldier's grave ! Unhappy land ! had Britain's sons been thine , How had each glowing breast for freedom bled ! And nerv'd in ...
... heart , -whose base , ungen'rous blood , Cold as thy marble - impotent to save , Live , all unworthy of the soldier's grave ! Unhappy land ! had Britain's sons been thine , How had each glowing breast for freedom bled ! And nerv'd in ...
Сторінка 18
... heart . Every one should be allowed to tell his own story after his own manner . For why should one be obliged to call out , like Grumio , " Tell thou the tale ; " or with honest Fluellin , " It is not well done , mark you now , to take ...
... heart . Every one should be allowed to tell his own story after his own manner . For why should one be obliged to call out , like Grumio , " Tell thou the tale ; " or with honest Fluellin , " It is not well done , mark you now , to take ...
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Сторінка 60 - Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd 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...
Сторінка 211 - 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 305 - Out of my grief and my impatience Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what, He should, or he should not ; for he made me mad To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman...
Сторінка 265 - The affliction nor the fear. Lear. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, That hast within thee undivulged crimes, Unwhipp'd of justice ; hide thee, thou bloody hand, Thou perjur'd, and thou simular of virtue That art incestuous ; caitiff, to pieces shake, That under covert and convenient seeming Hast practis'd on man's life ; close pent-up guilts, Rive your concealing continents, and cry These dreadful summoners grace.
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.
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 265 - Who, that surveys this span of earth we press, This speck of life in time's great wilderness, This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities ! — Would sully the bright spot or leave it bare, When he might build him a proud temple there A name, that long shall hallow all its space, And be each purer soul's high...
Сторінка 58 - But worthier still of note Are those fraternal Four of Borrowdale, Joined in one solemn and capacious grove; Huge trunks! and each particular trunk a growth Of intertwisted fibres serpentine Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved...
Сторінка 177 - And of an humbler growth, the other tall, And throwing up into the darkest gloom Of neighbouring cypress, or more sable yew, Her silver globes, light as the foamy surf That the wind severs from the broken wave...
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...