The Quarterly review, Том 49

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Murray, 1833
 

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Стр. 193 - O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven ! Keep me in temper ; I would not be mad ! — Enter Gentleman.
Стр. 12 - Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow; Then boast no more your mighty deeds! Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor-victim...
Стр. 197 - Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me; For (as I am a man) I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Стр. 194 - But I will punish home: No, I will weep no more. In such a night To shut me out! Pour on; I will endure. In such a night as this! O Regan, Goneril! Your old kind father, whose frank heart gave all O, that way madness lies; let me shun that; No more of that.
Стр. 351 - Who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods? who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders?
Стр. 85 - ON either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky ; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot ; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro...
Стр. 186 - I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Стр. 455 - Quando fui desto innanzi la dimane, Pianger senti' fra '1 sonno i miei figliuoli, Ch' erano meco, e dimandar del pane.
Стр. 194 - Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free The body's delicate; the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else Save what beats there.
Стр. 459 - The land that gave me birth Is situate on the coast, where Po descends To rest in ocean with his sequent streams. ' Love that in gentle heart is quickly learnt Entangled him by that fair form, from me Ta'en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still ; ' Love that denial takes from none beloved Caught me with pleasing him so passing well That as thou seest, he yet deserts me not. ' Love brought us to one death; Caina waits The soul who spilt our life.

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