The cabinet; or The selected beauties of literature [ed. by J. Aitken]., Том 1John Aitken, 1824 - Всего страниц: 420 Includes poetry and prose, chiefly by contemporary writers, including Shelley, Byron, Hunt, Scott, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey, and many others. |
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Стр. 12
... brought me here ; and as I am going away , lo ! again shines in all its beauty the fair Arch of Promise . " These were his last words at parting , and they were remembered by Mary Stewart , and often repeated by her , as she wandered ...
... brought me here ; and as I am going away , lo ! again shines in all its beauty the fair Arch of Promise . " These were his last words at parting , and they were remembered by Mary Stewart , and often repeated by her , as she wandered ...
Стр. 13
... brought up in the gay heartlessness of dissipated life , to laugh at all love stories , and to treat the tales of ro- mantic passion as mere fictions of novelists and poets . My observations on human nature have induced me to think ...
... brought up in the gay heartlessness of dissipated life , to laugh at all love stories , and to treat the tales of ro- mantic passion as mere fictions of novelists and poets . My observations on human nature have induced me to think ...
Стр. 14
... brought down to " darkness and the worm . " You will be told of some wintry chill , some casual indisposition , that laid her low ; -but no one knows of the mental malady that previously sapped her strength , and made her so easy a prey ...
... brought down to " darkness and the worm . " You will be told of some wintry chill , some casual indisposition , that laid her low ; -but no one knows of the mental malady that previously sapped her strength , and made her so easy a prey ...
Стр. 22
... brought to my recollection that the rose - tree was still on the peristyle : never had it been so precious to me ; I hastened to it ; and scarcely was I in the anti - chamber , when I heard a singular noise , like that of an animal ...
... brought to my recollection that the rose - tree was still on the peristyle : never had it been so precious to me ; I hastened to it ; and scarcely was I in the anti - chamber , when I heard a singular noise , like that of an animal ...
Стр. 24
... brought to you , that your ring fell on the ground- you promised a great recompence to him who should find it . I dare to solicit that recompence ; grant me my pardon for Robin's death . ' 6 " And I , sir , I thank you for it ...
... brought to you , that your ring fell on the ground- you promised a great recompence to him who should find it . I dare to solicit that recompence ; grant me my pardon for Robin's death . ' 6 " And I , sir , I thank you for it ...
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affection Agenor Alberti Amelia Ansaldo appeared archbishop of Riga arms beautiful behold Bianca bosom breast breath bright burgomaster church countenance dark daugh daughter dead dear death dream ducats earth Egyptian hieroglyphics Ernest Evaline eyes father fear feelings felt flowers frae gaze Genovino gentle Gianetto grave hand happy hath head heard heart heaven honour hope hour husband Julia Kilmeny knew lady leave light live looked Lord Ludovico Sforza Marano Mary Stewart Masaniello Melmoth mind morning mother mountains nature never night o'er once Oneyo passed passion poor replied returned Rosario rose rose-tree round Samian wine scene seemed sigh silent sleep smile soon sorrow soul sound spirit St Bridget stood stranger sweet tears tell tender thee thing thou thought tion took trembling turned Venice viceroy voice walk wife wild wind words young youth
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Стр. 72 - The mountains look on Marathon — And Marathon looks on the sea ; And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free ; For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set, where were they?
Стр. 387 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Стр. 414 - Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards : Already with thee ! tender is the night, And haply the queen-moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry fays...
Стр. 382 - Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot; O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea! About, about, in reel and rout, The death-fires danced at night: The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white.
Стр. 386 - The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot" from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.
Стр. 386 - The upper air burst into life, And a hundred fire-flags sheen To and fro they were hurried about ; And to and fro, and in and out The wan stars danced between.
Стр. 391 - And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. "Ha! ha!" quoth he, "full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.
Стр. 414 - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
Стр. 384 - I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand so brown.
Стр. 268 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth "s unknown, although his height be taken.