The Metropolitan, Volym 14James Cochrane, 1835 |
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Sida 43
... mind ; I seized my hat and rushed into the yard , where , alas ! my worst fears were fatally confirmed . His hoary hide , half stripped from his aged body , his throat gashed by an un- seemly wound , with one of his fore quarters ...
... mind ; I seized my hat and rushed into the yard , where , alas ! my worst fears were fatally confirmed . His hoary hide , half stripped from his aged body , his throat gashed by an un- seemly wound , with one of his fore quarters ...
Sida 49
... mind's eye ; and the mind that is capable of receiving and enjoying the impressions of poetry , is itself of superior stamp ; consequently poe- try will never please the many , however they may affect pleasure . It has been the fashion ...
... mind's eye ; and the mind that is capable of receiving and enjoying the impressions of poetry , is itself of superior stamp ; consequently poe- try will never please the many , however they may affect pleasure . It has been the fashion ...
Sida 51
... minds , if displayed with acuteness and fidelity , may not only raise them much higher than they otherwise would stand in ... mind , " said the Muse : " I certainly do begin to be as tired of your country , as she can be of me . I have ...
... minds , if displayed with acuteness and fidelity , may not only raise them much higher than they otherwise would stand in ... mind , " said the Muse : " I certainly do begin to be as tired of your country , as she can be of me . I have ...
Sida 54
... mind ; thus following up the grander conception of Eschylus , in his " Prome- theus vinctus , " who felt for the fallen hero , and , heathen as he was , hated his insulting vanquisher . The latter picture is the true one : Satan and ...
... mind ; thus following up the grander conception of Eschylus , in his " Prome- theus vinctus , " who felt for the fallen hero , and , heathen as he was , hated his insulting vanquisher . The latter picture is the true one : Satan and ...
Sida 55
... mind . Unknown to himself , but not unfelt , an allegory , which it will be our pains to illustrate , has developed itself under his pen . The first act of the " Prometheus Unbound " opens magnificently , thus : - ACT I. ( SCENE - A ...
... mind . Unknown to himself , but not unfelt , an allegory , which it will be our pains to illustrate , has developed itself under his pen . The first act of the " Prometheus Unbound " opens magnificently , thus : - ACT I. ( SCENE - A ...
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Populära avsnitt
Sida 321 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Sida 64 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
Sida 60 - Grief made the young Spring wild, and she threw down Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were, Or they dead leaves; since her delight is flown, For whom should she have waked the sullen year?
Sida 63 - I dare not guess; but in this life Of error, ignorance, and strife. Where nothing is, but all things seem. And we the shadows of the dream, It is a modest creed, and yet Pleasant if one considers it, To own that death itself must be. Like all the rest, a mockery.
Sida 321 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; "Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
Sida 64 - I vowed that I would dedicate my powers To thee and thine : have I not kept the vow ? With beating heart and streaming eyes, even now I call the phantoms of a thousand hours Each from his voiceless grave : they have in...
Sida 65 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Sida 61 - Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep — He hath awakened from the dream of life...
Sida 64 - We look before and after, And pine for what is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Sida 64 - Yet if we could scorn Hate, and pride, and fear; If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.