Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Том 8

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William Blackwood, 1821
 

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Сторінка 109 - LIFE IN LONDON : or, the Day and Night Scenes of Jerry Hawthorn, Esq., and his Elegant Friend, Corinthian Tom.
Сторінка 397 - Then the pied wind-flowers and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them all, Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die of their own dear loveliness...
Сторінка 396 - Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Сторінка 396 - Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freak'd with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears : Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
Сторінка 494 - Accordingly we find, that, in every kingdom, into which money begins to flow in greater abundance than formerly, everything takes a new face : labour and industry gain life ; the merchant becomes more enterprising, the manufacturer more diligent and skilful, and even the farmer follows his plough with greater alacrity and attention.
Сторінка 279 - ... a little indulgence to others, and a great deal of distrust of ourselves; which are not qualities of a mean spirit, as some may possibly think them; but virtues of a great and noble kind, and such as dignify our nature as much as they contribute to our repose and fortune. For nothing can be so unworthy of a well-composed soul, as to pass away life in bickerings and litigations, in snarling and scuffling with every one about us. Again and again, my dear Barry, we must be at peace with our species...
Сторінка 397 - The snow-drop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, And their breath was mixed with fresh odour, sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument.
Сторінка 124 - Among bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), " O, come ye in peace here or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar...
Сторінка 90 - To bridle a goddess is no very delicate idea; but why must she be bridled? because she longs to launch ? an act which was never hindered by a bridle: and whither will she launch? into a nobler strain.
Сторінка 397 - Some glossy-leaved, and shining in the sun, The maple, and the beech of oily nuts Prolific, and the lime at dewy eve Diffusing odours : nor unnoted pass The sycamore, capricious in attire. Now green, now tawny, and ere autumn yet Have changed the woods, in scarlet honours bright.

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