Chambers' Edinburgh Journal, 第 17~18 巻

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William Orr, 1852
 

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144 ページ - Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on...
315 ページ - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometimes voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
227 ページ - And one shall say unto him, What are these wounds in thine hands ? Then he shall answer, Those with which I was wounded in the house of my friends.
4 ページ - A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys. While like the eagle free Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind...
161 ページ - ... a power, to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome, in the height of her glory, is not to be compared ; a power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England.
253 ページ - The timid girls, half dreading their design, Dip the small foot in the retarded brine, And search for crimson weeds, which spreading flow., Or lie like pictures on the sand below ; With all those bright red pebbles, that the sun Through the small waves so softly shines upon...
238 ページ - I gave him paper and pencil, and he tried to write, and he then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back, and held him, and I then turned round myself and cried. I was crying a good while...
87 ページ - Those living jellies which the flesh inflame, Fierce as a nettle, and from that its name ; Some in huge masses, some that you may bring In the small compass of a lady's ring; Figured by hand divine — there's not a gem Wrought by man's art to be compared to them; Soft, brilliant, tender, through the wave they glow, And make the moonbeam brighter where they flow.
226 ページ - My life is dreary, He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
162 ページ - Serpents grace, And gaping Tritons spew to wash your face. Is this a dinner? this a Genial room? No, 'tis a Temple, and a Hecatomb.

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