The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, 第 14 卷

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Leavitt, Throw and Company, 1848

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第 411 頁 - Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare ; Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve ; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair ! Ah, happy, happy boughs ! that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu...
第 410 頁 - Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away ; Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day ; Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain; Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
第 518 頁 - My wits begin to turn. Come on, my boy : how dost, my boy ? art cold ? I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow ? The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel. Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.
第 411 頁 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
第 410 頁 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint : She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven : Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
第 394 頁 - If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
第 410 頁 - Half-hidden, like a mermaid in seaweed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
第 407 頁 - Homer ruled as his demesne ; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold : Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
第 519 頁 - Lear. Be your tears wet ? yes, faith. I pray, weep not : If you have poison for me I will drink it. I know you do not love me ; for your sisters Have, as I do remember, done me wrong : You have some cause, they have not. Cor. No cause, no cause.
第 105 頁 - Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains, They crowned him long ago On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, With a diadem of snow.

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