Ladies' Magazine, Том 1Putnam & Hunt, 1828 |
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Стр. 3
... sweet smile with He will present her his sub- which the gift is received , will recur , like a dream of light , to his memory , while reflecting that the soft eyes of his charmer are , for his sake , often employed on its pure pages ...
... sweet smile with He will present her his sub- which the gift is received , will recur , like a dream of light , to his memory , while reflecting that the soft eyes of his charmer are , for his sake , often employed on its pure pages ...
Стр. 9
... sweet tones ; they thrilled every fibre of his heart , and often charmed him " even to tears " -but he did not dare indulge his tender and delighted feelings , he so feared he should idolize her ; he so trembled lest he should lose her ...
... sweet tones ; they thrilled every fibre of his heart , and often charmed him " even to tears " -but he did not dare indulge his tender and delighted feelings , he so feared he should idolize her ; he so trembled lest he should lose her ...
Стр. 16
... sweet pilgrim of an hour ! Affection's fairest , dearest flower ; Thou beauteous germe of life and youth , Emblem of purity and truth : Bright heir of an immortal birth , Lent for an hour to bloom on earth- " Tis done ! the fated shaft ...
... sweet pilgrim of an hour ! Affection's fairest , dearest flower ; Thou beauteous germe of life and youth , Emblem of purity and truth : Bright heir of an immortal birth , Lent for an hour to bloom on earth- " Tis done ! the fated shaft ...
Стр. 17
... sweets shall shed . Far from the world , its noise and care , I'll seek a cherished refuge there , And meekly own the dread behest , Which gives my babe an angel's rest . J. P. L. DUELLING . A writer in the New York Morning Courier ...
... sweets shall shed . Far from the world , its noise and care , I'll seek a cherished refuge there , And meekly own the dread behest , Which gives my babe an angel's rest . J. P. L. DUELLING . A writer in the New York Morning Courier ...
Стр. 29
... sweet , pensive thrill ; As if her spirit still hover'd near , To awaken those tones in life so dear . HENRY . THE TOKEN . WE confess we look at this little work with great plea- sure , and as little of that vanity with which we are ...
... sweet , pensive thrill ; As if her spirit still hover'd near , To awaken those tones in life so dear . HENRY . THE TOKEN . WE confess we look at this little work with great plea- sure , and as little of that vanity with which we are ...
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
admiration affection appear aunt aunt Jemima beautiful breathed bright Caroline Anderson Catharine character charm child Connecticut considered countenance dæmon dark daugh daughter dear deep dream duty earth Edward Paine exertion fame fancy father fear feel felt female flowers full blown rose genius girl grace Guizot happiness hath heard heart heaven honor hope Hope Leslie hour husband imagination influence interest James Murray knew labor learned lisping lived look Magazine manner marriage married ment Meulan mind Miss Miss Brooks moral morning mother N. P. Willis nature never o'er Obed passed passion perhaps person pleasure praise reader rich Robert Simonds scenes seemed Silsby smile society soon sorrow soul spirit story suffering sweet talents taste tears tender thee thing thou thought tion truth wife wish woman word writers young ladies youth
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Стр. 411 - O'er Gunga's mimic sea ! I miss thee at the dawning gray, When, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay And woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when by Gunga's stream My twilight steps I guide, But most beneath the lamp's pale beam I miss thee from my side.
Стр. 328 - O'er other creatures: yet, when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded : wisdom in discourse with her Loses, discountenanced, and like folly shows...
Стр. 369 - Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence : Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy ; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being...
Стр. 459 - WHAT is that, Mother ? The lark, my child ! The morn has but just looked out, and smiled ; When he starts, from his humble, grassy nest, And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, To warble it out, in his Maker's ear : Ever my child, be thy morn's first lays, Tuned,' like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. What is that, Mother...
Стр. 194 - ... durable, because more natural, and which, according to the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of exalting beyond measure, or diminishing the lustre of her character. This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we contemplate...
Стр. 50 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Стр. 460 - What is that, mother ? The swan, my love. — He is floating down from his native grove, No loved one now, no nestling nigh ; He is floating down by himself to die ; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings. Live so, my love, that when Death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.
Стр. 50 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh ! night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong ; Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along From peak to peak the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! And this is in the night.
Стр. 150 - It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.