The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, 第 1 巻H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley H. Bigelow, Esq., editor and proprietor, 1817 |
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... seem , it wrought a prodigious revolution in the minds of his adversaries . However it may be accounted for , certain it is , that they . suddenly relaxed the austerity of their features , and have , ever since , continued to smile on ...
... seem , it wrought a prodigious revolution in the minds of his adversaries . However it may be accounted for , certain it is , that they . suddenly relaxed the austerity of their features , and have , ever since , continued to smile on ...
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... seem as if one who could do so well , might do better . - We sincerely hope he may . of Byron's followers . In his lordship's lordship seems to think it is as much wildest incoherence , there is something beneath him to attend to the ...
... seem as if one who could do so well , might do better . - We sincerely hope he may . of Byron's followers . In his lordship's lordship seems to think it is as much wildest incoherence , there is something beneath him to attend to the ...
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... seems a floating whisper on the hill , But that is fancy , for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil , Weeping themselves away , till they infuse Deep into nature's breast the spirit of her hues . LXXXVIII . " Ye ...
... seems a floating whisper on the hill , But that is fancy , for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil , Weeping themselves away , till they infuse Deep into nature's breast the spirit of her hues . LXXXVIII . " Ye ...
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... seems to be in the humour of Timon , to invite his friends to a course of empty dishes , which are finally to be discharged at their heads . Profane enough we must own ourselves , for never did we more heartily laugh this . If this be ...
... seems to be in the humour of Timon , to invite his friends to a course of empty dishes , which are finally to be discharged at their heads . Profane enough we must own ourselves , for never did we more heartily laugh this . If this be ...
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... seems as anxious to remove from himself the imputation of having bor- rowed from the author of Christabel . With this question we shall not trouble ourselves : where two are afflicted with an epidemic , it is of little importance which ...
... seems as anxious to remove from himself the imputation of having bor- rowed from the author of Christabel . With this question we shall not trouble ourselves : where two are afflicted with an epidemic , it is of little importance which ...
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10 ページ - At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
296 ページ - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
296 ページ - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
296 ページ - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
296 ページ - Oh ! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight...
349 ページ - Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes ; The thirst of their ambition was not mine, The aim of their existence was not mine ; My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, Made me a stranger ; though I wore the form, I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, Nor midst the creatures of clay that girded me Was there but one who but of her anon.
9 ページ - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
296 ページ - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
349 ページ - Or to look, list'ning, on the scattered leaves, While Autumn winds were at their evening song. These were my pastimes, and to be alone ; For if the beings, of whom I was one, — Hating to be so, — cross'd me in my path, I felt myself degraded back to them, And was all clay again.
422 ページ - I stoop not to despair; For I have battled with mine agony, And made me wings wherewith to overfly The narrow circus of my dungeon wall...