The Kaleidoscope: or, Literary and scientific mirror

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Sida 171 - He for God only, she for God in him. His fair large front and eye sublime declared Absolute rule...
Sida 35 - But this I confess unto thee, that after the way which they call heresy, so worship I the God of my fathers...
Sida 140 - Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell — Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave — Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave...
Sida 42 - She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight...
Sida 14 - The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.
Sida 14 - O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses: But, for their virtue only is their show. They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade; Die to themselves.
Sida 14 - Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted ; But yet a union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem...
Sida 167 - When I am as it were completely myself, entirely alone and of good cheer — say, travelling in a carriage, or walking after a good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep — it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and most abundantly. Whence and how they come, I know not; nor can I force them.
Sida 188 - And fill with tears of joy my eyes. What is there my wild heart can prize, That doth not in thy sphere abide ; Haunt of my home-bred sympathies, My own — my own fireside.
Sida 3 - ... there happened this extraordinary case,— one of the most romantique that ever I heard of in my life, and could not have believed, but that I did see it...

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