The Edinburgh Review, Volum 43;Volum 77

A. and C. Black, 1843

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Pàgina 381 - O look ! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow ; He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know. And there I move no longer now, and there his light may shine — Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than mine.
Pàgina 376 - Come from the woods that belt the gray hill-side, The seven elms, the poplars four That stand beside my father's door, And chiefly from the brook that loves To purl o'er matted cress and ribbed sand, Or dimple in the dark of rushy coves, Drawing into his narrow earthen urn, In every elbow and turn, The filter'd tribute of the rough woodland.
Pàgina 379 - And tender curving lines of creamy spray ; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy ; To muse and brood and live again in memory...
Pàgina 385 - And nothing saw, for her despair, But dreadful time, dreadful eternity, No comfort anywhere; Remaining utterly confused with fears, And ever worse with growing time, And ever unrelieved by dismal tears, And all alone in crime: Shut up as in a crumbling tomb, girt round With blackness as a solid wall, Far off she seem'd to hear the dully sound Of human footsteps fall.
Pàgina 384 - I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; And, if I die, no soul will pity me : — Nay, wherefore should they ? since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself.
Pàgina 388 - I HAD a vision when the night was late : A youth came riding toward a palace-gate. He rode a horse with wings, that would have flown, But that his heavy rider kept him down. And from the palace came a child of sin, And took him by the curls, and led him in.
Pàgina 359 - It never was however intended as an Union for the Government of the World, or for the Superintendence of the Internal Affairs of other States...
Pàgina 383 - I BUILT my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, " O Soul, make merry and carouse, Dear soul, for all is well.
Pàgina 77 - But whatever be his purpose, whether to gladden or depress, or to conduct the story without vehemence or emotion through tracts of easy and familiar dialogue, he never fails to attain his purpose; as he commands us, we laugh or mourn or sit silent with quiet expectation in tranquillity without indifference. When Shakespeare's plan is understood, most of the criticisms of Rymer and Voltaire vanish away. The play of Hamlet...
Pàgina 383 - No where by thee my steps shall be, For ever and for ever. But here will sigh thine alder tree, And here thine aspen shiver; And here by thee will hum the bee, For ever and for ever.

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