Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 第 10 巻

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W. Blackwood, 1821
 

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373 ページ - Ye men of Israel, hear these words : Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you by miracles and wonders and signs, which God did by him in the midst of you, as ye yourselves also know: Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain...
106 ページ - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
300 ページ - But to my mind, — though I am native here, And to the manner born, — it is a custom More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
106 ページ - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations ; — all were his ! _ . He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set, where were they?
308 ページ - A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
106 ページ - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gave, — Think ye he meant them for a slave?
106 ページ - And where are they ? And where art thou ? My Country ! On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more. And must thy lyre, so long divine...
106 ページ - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
107 ページ - tis the hour of prayer ! Ave Maria ! 'tis the hour of love ! Ave Maria ! may our spirits dare Look up to thine and to thy Son's above ! Ave Maria ! oh, that face so fair ! Those downcast eyes beneath the Almighty dove — What though 'tis but a pictured image ? — strike — That painting is no idol, — 'tis too like.
444 ページ - Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer cloud, Without our special wonder...

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