The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Volym 1H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley H. Bigelow, Esq., editor and proprietor, 1817 |
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Sida 4
... never had more disciples . The votaries of the system , of which Lord Byron was English Bards and Scotch Reviewers , ' the propagator , have ravaged every re- afforded him , at once , the gratification of revenge and the eclat of ...
... never had more disciples . The votaries of the system , of which Lord Byron was English Bards and Scotch Reviewers , ' the propagator , have ravaged every re- afforded him , at once , the gratification of revenge and the eclat of ...
Sida 6
... never have thought of reproaching any man with receiving the reward of his labours , had he not Another motive than vanity might , indeed , be suggested for the inconti- nence of his lordship's muse . out in evidence , in a recent trial ...
... never have thought of reproaching any man with receiving the reward of his labours , had he not Another motive than vanity might , indeed , be suggested for the inconti- nence of his lordship's muse . out in evidence , in a recent trial ...
Sida 8
... never cloak of the Spaniard , and sometimes could have been a Milton , a Dryden , a it descends to fret in its native costume ; Pope , or a Gray , but he might have but frown , strut , or fret where it will , been a star of the third or ...
... never cloak of the Spaniard , and sometimes could have been a Milton , a Dryden , a it descends to fret in its native costume ; Pope , or a Gray , but he might have but frown , strut , or fret where it will , been a star of the third or ...
Sida 9
... never been ; For daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek'st Even now to re - assume the imperial mien , And shake again the world , the thunderer of the Scene ! " P. 22 . a " Cordial compound . " The whole of the address to Bonaparte ...
... never been ; For daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek'st Even now to re - assume the imperial mien , And shake again the world , the thunderer of the Scene ! " P. 22 . a " Cordial compound . " The whole of the address to Bonaparte ...
Sida 11
... never did we more heartily laugh this . If this be called genius , as we than at the conclusion of this burlesque ; suppose it must , we are of opinion that in which we think the noble Lord has the madness of that aforesaid quality is ...
... never did we more heartily laugh this . If this be called genius , as we than at the conclusion of this burlesque ; suppose it must , we are of opinion that in which we think the noble Lord has the madness of that aforesaid quality is ...
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The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Volym 1 H. Biglow,Orville Luther Holley Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1817 |
The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Volym 2 H. Biglow,Orville Luther Holley Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1817 |
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Sida 10 - 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.
Sida 296 - 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.
Sida 296 - 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.
Sida 296 - 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.
Sida 296 - 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...
Sida 349 - 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.
Sida 9 - 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!
Sida 296 - 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.
Sida 349 - 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.
Sida 422 - 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...