The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Հատոր 1H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley H. Bigelow, Esq., editor and proprietor, 1817 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 79–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 7
... Coleridge's bantlings , that wild and singularly third part of Childe Harold . As the original and beautiful poem . " · . first and second parts of this poem ap- vastly superior 1817 . 7 Lord Byron's Childe Harold and Prisoners of Chillon .
... Coleridge's bantlings , that wild and singularly third part of Childe Harold . As the original and beautiful poem . " · . first and second parts of this poem ap- vastly superior 1817 . 7 Lord Byron's Childe Harold and Prisoners of Chillon .
Էջ 12
... original . His Lord- " Amen , say also we ; for till these dia- ship's philosophy is at times of the sect logues are somewhat more intelligible of the " unintelligibles , " at least to us than many of the verses in this volume ...
... original . His Lord- " Amen , say also we ; for till these dia- ship's philosophy is at times of the sect logues are somewhat more intelligible of the " unintelligibles , " at least to us than many of the verses in this volume ...
Էջ 13
... original ; for there is a ' We really must make a stand some- land of dreams with which poets hold where for the rights of common sense ; an unrestricted commerce , and where and large as is the allowance which we they may load their ...
... original ; for there is a ' We really must make a stand some- land of dreams with which poets hold where for the rights of common sense ; an unrestricted commerce , and where and large as is the allowance which we they may load their ...
Էջ 15
... original and beautiful poem " of time have some curiosity to see a little Christabel . Could Lord Byron , the of this " wild and singularly original author of this pithy sentence , show us wherein consists its singular beauty ? This is ...
... original and beautiful poem " of time have some curiosity to see a little Christabel . Could Lord Byron , the of this " wild and singularly original author of this pithy sentence , show us wherein consists its singular beauty ? This is ...
Էջ 22
... original and beau- all this is properly weighed , the despe- tiful , " is , in our judgment , a weak and rate love towards such a restless ill - dis- singularly nonsensical and affected per- posed person in the mind of a gentle formance ...
... original and beau- all this is properly weighed , the despe- tiful , " is , in our judgment , a weak and rate love towards such a restless ill - dis- singularly nonsensical and affected per- posed person in the mind of a gentle formance ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Հատոր 1 H. Biglow,Orville Luther Holley Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1817 |
The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, Հատոր 2 H. Biglow,Orville Luther Holley Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1817 |
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Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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...
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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!
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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.
Էջ 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...