The Southern Review, المجلد 7

الغلاف الأمامي
A. E. Miller., 1831

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الصفحة 17 - Or view the Lord of the unerring bow, The God of life, and poesy, and light The Sun in human limbs arrayed, and brow All radiant from his triumph in the fight; The shaft hath just been shot - the arrow bright With an immortal's vengeance; in his eye And nostril beautiful disdain, and might, And majesty, flash their full lightnings by, Developing in that one glance the Deity.
الصفحة 66 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
الصفحة 300 - Holds such an enmity with blood of man, That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body; And, with a sudden vigour., it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood...
الصفحة 293 - Mammon led them on, Mammon, the least erected Spirit that fell From Heaven; for even in Heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of Heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than aught divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific.
الصفحة 121 - LANZI'S History of Painting in Italy, from the Period of the Revival of the Fine Arts to the End of the Eighteenth Century. Translated by Thomas Roscoe. 3 vols. y. 6rf. each. LAPPENBERG'S History of England under the AngloSaxon Kings. Translated by B. Thorpe, FSA New edition, revised by EC Otte.
الصفحة 35 - I have no dread, And feel the curse to have no natural fear, Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes, Or lurking love of something on the earth.
الصفحة 31 - Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, Till our mortality predominates, And men are— what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
الصفحة 5 - My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea ; But, before I go, Tom Moore, Here's a double health to thee ! Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate ; And whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate. Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won.
الصفحة 31 - It is not noon — the sunbow's rays ' still arch The torrent with the many hues of heaven, And roll the sheeted silver's waving column O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular, And fling its lines of foaming light along, And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, As told in the Apocalypse.
الصفحة 379 - Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb His inmost counsels from their destined aim. But see ! the angry Victor hath recall'd His ministers of vengeance and pursuit Back to the gates of Heaven...

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