The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal, Том 42W. Curry, jun., and Company, 1853 |
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amongst ancient appear army beautiful Belisarius Bishop called character Church Clonmel Colonel Hall command Conrad of Montferrat dark death Dublin DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE Duke earth England English Euphrates eyes favour feel Finglas Floreff flowers French Gabriac give hand head heart holy honour horse igneous rock industrial Ireland Irish Justinian King lady land light Limerick live look Lord Lord Wellington Mairwara Mandodari means ment mind mountain nature never night noble o'er officer once passage passed person poem poet present Procopius racter Rakshasas Ravan reader replied river Robert Kane rock Roman rose round ruins Sarsfield Sauley scarcely seems side song soul spirit Suir sweet thee thou thought tion translation truth ture turned University of Dublin voice wild word XLII.-NO young
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Стр. 83 - Hear the sledges with the bells Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Стр. 85 - THE skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere, The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
Стр. 86 - ... journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old — This knight so bold — And o'er his heart a shadow Fell, as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length He met a pilgrim shadow — "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be — This land of Eldorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied, — "If you seek for Eldorado!
Стр. 83 - The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me ; Yes ! — that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Стр. 403 - Catiline. But he has done his robberies so openly that one may see he fears not to be taxed by any law. He invades authors like a monarch, and what would be theft in other poets is only victory in him.
Стр. 83 - It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
Стр. 84 - Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine — A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast!
Стр. 83 - With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago. In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.
Стр. 79 - Events not to be controlled have prevented me from making, at any time, any serious effort in what, under happier circumstances, would have been the field of my choice. With me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion ; and the passions should be held in reverence ; they must not — they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commendations, of mankind.
Стр. 85 - But our thoughts they were palsied and sere, Our memories were treacherous and sere, For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year, (Ah, night of all nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Auber (Though once we had journeyed down here), Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.