The Edinburgh Literary Journal: Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and Belles Lettres, المجلد 2Vol. 2 includes "The poet Shelley--his unpublished work, T̀he wandering Jew'" (p. 43-45, [57]-60) |
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الصفحة 4
The heart of Boabdil , softened by misfortunes , and overcharged with grief , could no longer contain itself , Allah achbar ! spectus , are to follow . God is great ! ' said he ; but the words of resignation died upon his lips , and he ...
The heart of Boabdil , softened by misfortunes , and overcharged with grief , could no longer contain itself , Allah achbar ! spectus , are to follow . God is great ! ' said he ; but the words of resignation died upon his lips , and he ...
الصفحة 13
THE gift I have reserved for thee May well , dear girl , my emblem be ; For , ere my heart had bled to know The ills that wait on all below , Life's book its fairest leaves display'd , Unsullied by the blots of Care , And not the ...
THE gift I have reserved for thee May well , dear girl , my emblem be ; For , ere my heart had bled to know The ills that wait on all below , Life's book its fairest leaves display'd , Unsullied by the blots of Care , And not the ...
الصفحة 16
says the lassie , it's naething but a filthy these divine arts ; and the Muse of the heart had at length padda ! ' - Open the door , ' says the mother , to the puir asserted her empire over all ranks of men . Poetry was padda .
says the lassie , it's naething but a filthy these divine arts ; and the Muse of the heart had at length padda ! ' - Open the door , ' says the mother , to the puir asserted her empire over all ranks of men . Poetry was padda .
الصفحة 21
I speak not - I trace not - I breathe not thy name , There is grief in the sound - there were guilt in the fame ; But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart The deep thought that dwells in that silence of heart .
I speak not - I trace not - I breathe not thy name , There is grief in the sound - there were guilt in the fame ; But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart The deep thought that dwells in that silence of heart .
الصفحة 27
Nor let me plead in vain ; A boon I crave my heart to cheer— A puir auld heart , —but hale and fere , That while it beats , will beat sincere , And warm in ilka vein . The boon I ask , at hour o❜ nine The morrow's e'en to meet ...
Nor let me plead in vain ; A boon I crave my heart to cheer— A puir auld heart , —but hale and fere , That while it beats , will beat sincere , And warm in ilka vein . The boon I ask , at hour o❜ nine The morrow's e'en to meet ...
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able already appear beautiful better body called cause character common contains course CRITICISM death Edinburgh effect English expression eyes face fair feel give given hand happy head heard heart hope hour human interesting Italy kind known lady land language late leave less light LITERARY living London look manner matter means mind Miss nature never night object observe once opinion original passed perhaps period person poet possess present principles published readers reason received remarkable respect rest round seems seen side society song soon speak spirit stand story thee thing thou thought tion true turn volume whole wish write young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 131 - That make the meadows green ; and, pour'd round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun. The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.
الصفحة 131 - She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. 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 131 - 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 131 - 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 131 - There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
الصفحة 131 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
الصفحة 131 - Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements; To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.
الصفحة 131 - 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 16 - At the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century...
الصفحة 225 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!