Chambers's Cyclopædia of English Literature: A History, Critical and Biographical, of British and American Authors, with Specimens of Their Writings, Volúmenes5-6Robert Chambers American Book Exchange, 1880 |
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Página 5
... soul of rest , As Tartars seize their destined prey . In vain with love our boscms glow : Can all our tears , can all our sighs , New lustre to those charms impart ? Can cheeks , where living roses blow , Where nature spreads her ...
... soul of rest , As Tartars seize their destined prey . In vain with love our boscms glow : Can all our tears , can all our sighs , New lustre to those charms impart ? Can cheeks , where living roses blow , Where nature spreads her ...
Página 6
... soul , now lost in clouds below , Soar without bound , without consuming glow . " Tetrastic - From the Persian . On parent knees , a naked new - born child , Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled : So live , that sinking in ...
... soul , now lost in clouds below , Soar without bound , without consuming glow . " Tetrastic - From the Persian . On parent knees , a naked new - born child , Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled : So live , that sinking in ...
Página 26
... soul ! --- Had two stone bottles found , To hold the liquor that she loved , And keep it safe and sound . Each bottle had a curling ear , Though which the belt he drew , And hung a bottle on each side , To make his balance true . Then ...
... soul ! --- Had two stone bottles found , To hold the liquor that she loved , And keep it safe and sound . Each bottle had a curling ear , Though which the belt he drew , And hung a bottle on each side , To make his balance true . Then ...
Página 29
... soul , Careless of wealth , nor fit for base control ! Thou tender saint , to whom he owes much more Than ever child to parent owed before ; In life's first season , when the fever's flame Shrunk to deformity his shrivelled frame , And ...
... soul , Careless of wealth , nor fit for base control ! Thou tender saint , to whom he owes much more Than ever child to parent owed before ; In life's first season , when the fever's flame Shrunk to deformity his shrivelled frame , And ...
Página 34
... soul and sense , and that guiding taste which were required to give it vitality , and direct it to its true objects . " Invocation to the Goddess of Botany . - From the Botanic Garden . ' ' Stay your rude steps ! whose throbbing breasts ...
... soul and sense , and that guiding taste which were required to give it vitality , and direct it to its true objects . " Invocation to the Goddess of Botany . - From the Botanic Garden . ' ' Stay your rude steps ! whose throbbing breasts ...
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Términos y frases comunes
admiration afterwards Aiken-drum Allan Cunningham Allan Ramsay appeared bawbee beauty beneath bonny breath bright Burns Byron character Charles Lamb charm clouds Cockpen dark dear death deep delight died dream earth ELIZABETH INCHBALD eyes fair fancy father fear feeling flowers frae genius grave green hame hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill honour hope Horace Smith hour John Kilmeny lady lassie light literary live look Lord Lord Byron mind morning mountain native nature never night novel o'er passion poem poet poetical poetry published rose round says scenes Scotland Scott Scottish seemed shew silent Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song soul spirit stream sweet tale taste tears thee thine thing thou thought Twas Vathek verse voice volumes wandering wave wild William Laidlaw WILLIAM MOTHERWELL wind young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 140 - tis her privilege. Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy; for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues. Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
Página 324 - Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.
Página 158 - The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
Página 290 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seemed a splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven: Porphyro grew faint: She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Página 137 - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Página 247 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, uncertain, coy, and hard to please, and variable as the shade by the light, quivering aspen made ; when pain and anguish wring the brow, a ministering angel thou...
Página 26 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more. Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, 'The wine is left behind!' 'Good lack,' quoth he — 'yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword, When I do exercise.
Página 138 - To them I may have owed another gift, Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood.
Página 297 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Página 291 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.