The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and Belles Lettres, المجلد 2Ballantyne, 1829 Vol. 2 includes "The poet Shelley--his unpublished work, T̀he wandering Jew'" (p. 43-45, [57]-60) |
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الصفحة
... Hope To the Spirit of laste To E. G. • ib . 389 241 420 389 81 WATTS , ( ALARIC A. ) To a Lady with a Book of Manuscript Poems 13 Song ib . 400 WEIR , ( WILLIAM ) England at the Close of 1829 433 • 414 WIFFEN , ( J. H. ) Stanzas for ...
... Hope To the Spirit of laste To E. G. • ib . 389 241 420 389 81 WATTS , ( ALARIC A. ) To a Lady with a Book of Manuscript Poems 13 Song ib . 400 WEIR , ( WILLIAM ) England at the Close of 1829 433 • 414 WIFFEN , ( J. H. ) Stanzas for ...
الصفحة 4
... hope , at some future period , to be able to reunite it to the mass from which it has been shivered . Even to this class , the work may possibly not yet appear so valuable as it will hereafter prove , when eked out by the selections ...
... hope , at some future period , to be able to reunite it to the mass from which it has been shivered . Even to this class , the work may possibly not yet appear so valuable as it will hereafter prove , when eked out by the selections ...
الصفحة 6
... hope of a blessed immortality . Who , in- with the copiousness of his illustrations , the fine English deed , is there that would not gladly make the exchange , if he richness and vigour of his style , and the interesting man- lived ...
... hope of a blessed immortality . Who , in- with the copiousness of his illustrations , the fine English deed , is there that would not gladly make the exchange , if he richness and vigour of his style , and the interesting man- lived ...
الصفحة 11
... He never forgot the man in the poet : he does not , like Milton's sirens , " with voluptuous hope dissolve , " but he The rudiments of Hieroglyphics and Egyptian Antiquities , in a WEEKLY REGISTER OF CRITICISM AND BELLES LETTRES . If.
... He never forgot the man in the poet : he does not , like Milton's sirens , " with voluptuous hope dissolve , " but he The rudiments of Hieroglyphics and Egyptian Antiquities , in a WEEKLY REGISTER OF CRITICISM AND BELLES LETTRES . If.
الصفحة 13
... Hope's coming years , I turn to the truth and the sweetness of this ! Such in life's lonely walk , is a delicate deed ; Its music breathes forth in a desolate hour , Surpassing the nightingale's voice in its meed , Which more sweetly ...
... Hope's coming years , I turn to the truth and the sweetness of this ! Such in life's lonely walk , is a delicate deed ; Its music breathes forth in a desolate hour , Surpassing the nightingale's voice in its meed , Which more sweetly ...
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ain true love appear auld beautiful better Boabdil called character Charles Kemble church clan Mackay Cravat cuckoo dark death delightful Edinburgh Edinburgh Review Editor English engraved eyes fair favour feel frae French friends genius ginal give Glasgow Greenock hand happy heard heart heaven honour hope Innerleithen interesting Italy King lady Lady Morgan land language light LITERARY JOURNAL living London look Lord Lord Byron Madame Vestris manner ment mind Miss nature never night o'er once original person pleasure poem poet poetry present racter readers remarkable round scarcely scene Scotland Scottish seems seen sing Sir Walter Scott smile song soul spirit story style sweet talent taste Theatre thee thing Thomas Hood thou thought tion volume whole wild words write young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 127 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, - the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods - rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
الصفحة 127 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.
الصفحة 127 - When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house...
الصفحة 127 - So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
الصفحة 127 - Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart, Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth, and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice...
الصفحة 183 - Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm south, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth ; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim.
الصفحة 127 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
الصفحة 128 - And what if cheerful shouts at noon Come, from the village sent, Or songs of maids, beneath the moon With fairy laughter blent? And what if, in the evening light, Betrothed lovers walk in sight Of my low monument? I would the lovely scene around Might know no sadder sight nor sound.
الصفحة 127 - Where thy pale form was laid with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth to be resolved to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being...
الصفحة 16 - I do confess thou'rt smooth and fair, And I might have gone near to love thee ; Had I not found the slightest prayer That lips could speak had power to move thee : But I can let thee now alone, As worthy to be loved by none.