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Or, Weekly Register of Criticism and Belles Lettres, المجلد 2Ballantyne, 1829 Vol. 2 includes "The poet Shelley--his unpublished work, T̀he wandering Jew'" (p. 43-45, [57]-60) |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 17
... sweet myrtle , " & c . " This beautiful song - beautiful for both its amatory and its patriotic sentiment - seems to have been composed by Burns during the period when he was courting the lady who afterwards became his wife . The ...
... sweet myrtle , " & c . " This beautiful song - beautiful for both its amatory and its patriotic sentiment - seems to have been composed by Burns during the period when he was courting the lady who afterwards became his wife . The ...
الصفحة 18
... sweet , yet find Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets , Thy favours are but like the wind , ' That kisses every thing it meets . And since thou can with more than one , Thou'rt worthy to be kissed by none . The morning rose , that ...
... sweet , yet find Thee such an unthrift of thy sweets , Thy favours are but like the wind , ' That kisses every thing it meets . And since thou can with more than one , Thou'rt worthy to be kissed by none . The morning rose , that ...
الصفحة 21
... sweet , With thee by my side , than the world at our feet . One sigh of thy sorrow , one look of thy love , Shall turn me or fix , shall reward or reprove ; And the heartless may wonder at all we resign , ➡ Thy lip shall reply not to ...
... sweet , With thee by my side , than the world at our feet . One sigh of thy sorrow , one look of thy love , Shall turn me or fix , shall reward or reprove ; And the heartless may wonder at all we resign , ➡ Thy lip shall reply not to ...
الصفحة 24
... sweet lassie , without e'er a fau't ; Sae ilka ane tell's me , -sae it maun be true ; To his kail , my auld fayther has plenty o ' saut , And that brings the lads in gowpens to woo . There's Saunders M'Latchie , wha bides at the Mill ...
... sweet lassie , without e'er a fau't ; Sae ilka ane tell's me , -sae it maun be true ; To his kail , my auld fayther has plenty o ' saut , And that brings the lads in gowpens to woo . There's Saunders M'Latchie , wha bides at the Mill ...
الصفحة 26
... sweet music to which we have listened ; but the pleasure of these re- miniscences is faint , in comparison with present enjoy- ment . My recollections of Winandermere and its sur- rounding beauties are , indeed , of the most agreeable ...
... sweet music to which we have listened ; but the pleasure of these re- miniscences is faint , in comparison with present enjoy- ment . My recollections of Winandermere and its sur- rounding beauties are , indeed , of the most agreeable ...
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
ain true love appear auld beautiful better Boabdil called character Charles Kemble church clan Mackay Cravat cuckoo dark death delightful 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 living London look Lord Lord Byron Madame Vestris manner ment mind Miss nature never night o'er once original painted person pleasure poem poet poetry possess present racter readers remarkable respect 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 truth volume whole words 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!