Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance, General Literature, & Art, Volym 18

Framsida
William Harrison Ainsworth
Chapman and Hall, 1850
 

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Sida 147 - The star of the unconquered will, He rises in my breast, Serene, and resolute, and still, And calm, and self-possessed.
Sida 559 - Of unknown modes of being; o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes Remained, no pleasant images of trees, Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields; But huge and mighty forms, that do not live Like living men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.
Sida 145 - How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start?
Sida 559 - One summer evening (led by her) I found A little boat tied to a willow tree Within a rocky cave, its usual home. Straight I unloosed her chain, and stepping in Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth And troubled pleasure...
Sida 221 - Here let me careless and unthoughtful lying, Hear the soft winds above me flying With all their wanton boughs dispute, And the more tuneful birds to both replying, Nor be myself too mute.
Sida 216 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Sida 559 - Upreared its head. I struck and struck again, And growing still in stature the grim shape Towered up between me and the stars, and still, For so it seemed, with purpose of its own And measured motion like a living thing, Strode after me.
Sida 148 - THIS is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms ; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah ! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift keys ! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies...
Sida 559 - Small circles glittering idly in the moon, Until they melted all into one track Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows, Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point With an unswerving line...
Sida 147 - THE night is come, but not too soon ; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven, But the cold light of stars ; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars.

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