The Literary magnet of the belles lettres, science, and the fine arts, ed. by Tobias Merton. Vol.1 - new ser., vol.[2. Vol.2 of the new ser. wants all after p.192]., Zväzok 2Tobias Merton (pseud) 1824 |
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Výsledky 1 - 5 z 64.
Strana 14
... sorrow , Each day brings its share ; From eve let us borrow Fresh patience to bear : And the clouds that pass o'er us by day shall look bright In the gentle effulgence of evening's warm light . " Our days are devoted To trial and toil ...
... sorrow , Each day brings its share ; From eve let us borrow Fresh patience to bear : And the clouds that pass o'er us by day shall look bright In the gentle effulgence of evening's warm light . " Our days are devoted To trial and toil ...
Strana 15
... sorrow has sadden'd , Your smiles shed their light ; When pleasure has gladden'd , You made it more bright : And with you Winter Evenings enjoyments can bring More dear to your Minstrels than Mornings of Sprnig . " THE COACHMAN . A ...
... sorrow has sadden'd , Your smiles shed their light ; When pleasure has gladden'd , You made it more bright : And with you Winter Evenings enjoyments can bring More dear to your Minstrels than Mornings of Sprnig . " THE COACHMAN . A ...
Strana 21
... sorrow - gives pleasure a zest- Dear ex - quisite , double X ale ! When the labours of life with each morn are begun , Thy sweet kiss spirits languor away , And when evening smiles , as the lingering sun Casts his last fondling look at ...
... sorrow - gives pleasure a zest- Dear ex - quisite , double X ale ! When the labours of life with each morn are begun , Thy sweet kiss spirits languor away , And when evening smiles , as the lingering sun Casts his last fondling look at ...
Strana 25
... sorrows ; and the dark Misanthropist , self - cursed , shun the throng : --- Society is still the saviour ark Must bear us in her bosom safe along Life's rising waters , --- a Promethean spark , To fire th ' obtunded spirit , and to ...
... sorrows ; and the dark Misanthropist , self - cursed , shun the throng : --- Society is still the saviour ark Must bear us in her bosom safe along Life's rising waters , --- a Promethean spark , To fire th ' obtunded spirit , and to ...
Strana 26
... sorrows were o'er , I waked but to hear a childish cry , As one in his sleep - but it passed by , And his spirit was ne'er troubled more . I started from off my low pallet of heath , My weapons my kindred's wrongs ; And O ! could my ...
... sorrows were o'er , I waked but to hear a childish cry , As one in his sleep - but it passed by , And his spirit was ne'er troubled more . I started from off my low pallet of heath , My weapons my kindred's wrongs ; And O ! could my ...
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acquaintance admiration affection Alleyn appeared bag-piper beautiful beheld Bernard Barton bosom Bracebridge Hall bright Brook Cottage called character charms Cockney countenance daughter dear death delight door dream earth endeavoured fair fancy father feelings felt fortune genius gentleman give grave hand happy head heard heart heaven honour hope hour humour imagination Kensington Gardens lady letter light Literary Magnet live look Lord Lord Byron Margate marriage Merton mind misanthropy morning nature never night o'er object observed once Ourika passed passion Petersburgh Petrarch pleasure poem poet poetry poor racter readers Rip Van Winkle round scene seemed sigh silent sleep smile soon sorrow soul spirit sweet tale tears thee thing thou thought tion turn village walked Washington Irving whilst wife William Charlton wonder words write young youth
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Strana 229 - This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring . Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. It is the hush of night...
Strana 229 - Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more; He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still.
Strana 156 - Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight: Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land— Good Night!
Strana 249 - Rip looked, and beheld a precise counterpart of himself, as he went up the mountain ; apparently as lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. Ill the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name ? "God knows...
Strana 43 - She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking — Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking!
Strana 250 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?
Strana 31 - AH ! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war; Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown...
Strana 89 - To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold...
Strana 247 - My native country was full of youthful promise ; Europe was rich in the accumulated treasures of age. Her very ruins told the history of times gone by, and every mouldering stone was a chronicle. I longed to wander over the scenes of renowned achievement — to tread, as it were, in the footsteps of antiquity — to loiter about the ruined castle — to meditate on the falling tower — to escape, in short, from the commonplace realities of the present, and lose myself among the shadowy grandeurs...
Strana 183 - A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent ; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage...