Sartain's Union Magazine of Literature and Art, المجلد 7Caroline Matilda Kirkland, John Seely Hart 1850 |
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الصفحة 16
... falling mist . With measured steps They sauntered down the melancholy streets , And talked as the young do in their first grief ! She looked up in his face with earnest eyes , And laid her hand in his , and bade him wake , " And love ...
... falling mist . With measured steps They sauntered down the melancholy streets , And talked as the young do in their first grief ! She looked up in his face with earnest eyes , And laid her hand in his , and bade him wake , " And love ...
الصفحة 20
... falling thicker and faster . 66 ' They are our first snowdrops , " said her son , " we ought , therefore , to make much of them . " " Snowdrops , " repeated his mother , " they are such as can grow in the midst of water , then . " " Or ...
... falling thicker and faster . 66 ' They are our first snowdrops , " said her son , " we ought , therefore , to make much of them . " " Snowdrops , " repeated his mother , " they are such as can grow in the midst of water , then . " " Or ...
الصفحة 25
... fall into hands not disposed to encourage these heavenly virtues these Lares and Penates of domestic life . How I should like to know the lady to whom that lock of hair belonged , that I might form some idea how far she is calculated to ...
... fall into hands not disposed to encourage these heavenly virtues these Lares and Penates of domestic life . How I should like to know the lady to whom that lock of hair belonged , that I might form some idea how far she is calculated to ...
الصفحة 30
... falling tree , or the whirr of the bustling magpie , or the pipe of the thrush by day , or the hoot of the owl in the dusk . A squirrel hied across the road before us , and where the sunshine streamed into the tent of a spreading beech ...
... falling tree , or the whirr of the bustling magpie , or the pipe of the thrush by day , or the hoot of the owl in the dusk . A squirrel hied across the road before us , and where the sunshine streamed into the tent of a spreading beech ...
الصفحة 31
... falls , from the force of the wind Fell , all in good spirits and security . The heat and the treachery of the ground , —now , in a was still very great ; so we took our time , and trice , a medley of small streams . It was im- lagged ...
... falls , from the force of the wind Fell , all in good spirits and security . The heat and the treachery of the ground , —now , in a was still very great ; so we took our time , and trice , a medley of small streams . It was im- lagged ...
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admirable AMBLESIDE appearance artist Aston beautiful Béranger bright called character charming Chemisette chiné Christopher North clouds colour corsage dark daughter dear delight dress Edendale engravings eyes Ezra face fancy father feel flowers Frank Fredrika Bremer Frémont genius girl give Goethe gondolier grace hand happy HARRIET MARTINEAU heart heaven honour Hungary Irving Jenny Lind Kate labour lace lady light live look Mary ment mind Miss Fitscammon morning mother mountain nature never night noble o'er once Painted passed Philadelphia poem poet poetical poor present racter Redingote Rephidim riband Rosamond round scene seemed Skates smile song soul spirit style sweet taffetas taste tears thee things THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH thou thought tion trimmed truth voice volants walked William Penn wind words workhouse young
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 236 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how?
الصفحة 238 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
الصفحة 242 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
الصفحة 238 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist...
الصفحة 226 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring. Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished They live no longer in the faith of reason...
الصفحة 239 - Tis less of earth than heaven. Her every tone is music's own, Like those of morning birds, And something more than melody Dwells ever in her words; The coinage of her heart are they, And from her lips each flows As one may see the burden'd bee Forth issue from the rose.
الصفحة 241 - Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home ? Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other...
الصفحة 242 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
الصفحة 239 - I know, I know I should not see The season's glorious show, Nor would its brightness shine for me, Nor its wild music flow ; But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light and bloom Should keep them lingering by my tomb.
الصفحة 236 - And called her good as fair, For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true, For her heart was cold to all but gold And the rich came not to woo — But honoured well are charms to sell If priests the selling do.