The Quarterly Review, 第 16 巻

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John Murray, 1817
 

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198 ページ - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
399 ページ - I'll tell you, friend! a wise man and a fool. You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk, Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow, The rest is all but leather or prunella.
200 ページ - Clarens ! sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love ! Thine air is the young breath of passionate thought ; Thy trees take root in Love ; the snows above The very Glaciers have his colours caught, And sun-set into rose-hues sees them wrought By rays which sleep there lovingly...
254 ページ - That the influence of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished"?
204 ページ - A small green isle, it seem'd no more, Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing, Of gentle breath and hue.
197 ページ - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
88 ページ - Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did, And I with them the third night kept the watch ; Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes.
197 ページ - Within a windowed niche of that high hall Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; And when they smiled because he deem'd it near, His heart more truly knew that peal too well Which stretch'd his father on a bloody bier, And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell: He rush'd into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.
204 ページ - It was not even the dungeon-light, So hateful to my heavy sight, But vacancy absorbing space, And fixedness — without a place; There were no stars — no earth — no time — No check — no change — no good — no crime — But silence, and a stirless breath Which neither was of life nor death; A sea of stagnant idleness, Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless...
186 ページ - Demons in act, but gods at least in face, In Conrad's form seems little to admire, Though his dark eyebrow shades a glance of fire : Robust but not Herculean — to the sight No giant frame sets forth his common height ; Yet, in the whole, who paused to look again, Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men ; They gaze and marvel how — and still confess That thus it is, but why they cannot guess.

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