The Harvard Magazine, Том 2

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J. Bartlett, 1856
 

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Стр. 306 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one (from whence they came) Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life...
Стр. 407 - twas wild. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ! Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail...
Стр. 40 - Ye who love a nation's legends, Love the ballads of a people, That like voices from afar off Call to us to pause and listen, Speak in tones so plain and childlike, Scarcely can the ear distinguish Whether they are sung or spoken...
Стр. 249 - He shall not drop." said my uncle Toby, firmly. "A-well-o'day, do what we can for him, said Trim, maintaining his point,; "the poor soul will die." "He shall not die, by G— !" cried my uncle Toby. The Accusing Spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in, and the Recording Angel, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.
Стр. 406 - With woful measures, wan Despair — Low sullen sounds his grief beguiled ; A solemn, strange, and mingled air ; Twas sad, by fits — by starts, 'twas wild.
Стр. 308 - ... buildings above it, and quietly rested under the drums and tramplings of three conquests : what prince can promise such diuturnity unto his relics, or might not gladly say : Sic ego componi versus in ossa velim ? Time which antiquates antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all things, hath yet spared these minor monuments.
Стр. 129 - This worthless present was designed you long before it was a play; when it was only a confused mass of thoughts, tumbling over one another in the dark; when the fancy was yet in its first work, moving the sleeping images of things towards the light, there to be distinguished, and then either chosen or rejected by the judgment; it was yours, my Lord, before I could call it mine.
Стр. 234 - Who can but pity the founder of the Pyramids? Herostratus lives that burnt the Temple of Diana, he is almost lost that built it; Time hath spared the Epitaph of Adrian's horse, confounded that of himself. In vain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names, since bad have equal! durations; and Thersites is like to live as long as Agamemnon. Who knows whether the best of men be known? or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot, then any that stand remembered in the known...
Стр. 148 - I knew a very wise man so much of Sir Chr — 's sentiment, that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Стр. 233 - Now, since these dead bones have already outlasted the living ones of Methuselah, and in a yard under ground, and thin walls of clay, out-worn all the strong and spacious buildings above it, and quietly rested under the drums and tramplings of three conquests...

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