The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, 第 1 卷H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley H. Bigelow, Esq., editor and proprietor, 1817 |
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第 7 頁
... object in making an anatomy of his lordship . It has been said , by one whose opinion deserves consideration , that none but a good man can be a good orator . ' If the axiom be equally applicable to the poet , perhaps we have detected ...
... object in making an anatomy of his lordship . It has been said , by one whose opinion deserves consideration , that none but a good man can be a good orator . ' If the axiom be equally applicable to the poet , perhaps we have detected ...
第 9 頁
... objects with like firmness fixt , Extreme in all things ! hadst thou been betwixt , Thy throne had still been thine , or never been ; For daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek'st Even now to re - assume the imperial mien , And shake ...
... objects with like firmness fixt , Extreme in all things ! hadst thou been betwixt , Thy throne had still been thine , or never been ; For daring made thy rise as fall : thou seek'st Even now to re - assume the imperial mien , And shake ...
第 16 頁
... object of the poet was to make fools of We should not be much surprised if the be sure , some preternatural personage , the public , having observed Lord Byron comes home with Christabel , and passes to have succeeded so well in this ...
... object of the poet was to make fools of We should not be much surprised if the be sure , some preternatural personage , the public , having observed Lord Byron comes home with Christabel , and passes to have succeeded so well in this ...
第 21 頁
... object. " And would his death - fixed eye be terrible " As its ray bent in love on her that wronged him ? " And would his dying groan affright thine ear " Like words of peace spoke to thy guilt - in vain ? " Imo . I care not , I am ...
... object. " And would his death - fixed eye be terrible " As its ray bent in love on her that wronged him ? " And would his dying groan affright thine ear " Like words of peace spoke to thy guilt - in vain ? " Imo . I care not , I am ...
第 22 頁
... object of the love of both its way , the saintly Prior meets the bloody Bertram with this exclamation : Prior . This ... Objects of such tremendous reality are not the proper appendages of fiction . They were intended only for hallowed ...
... object of the love of both its way , the saintly Prior meets the bloody Bertram with this exclamation : Prior . This ... Objects of such tremendous reality are not the proper appendages of fiction . They were intended only for hallowed ...
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第 10 頁 - At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
第 296 頁 - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
第 296 頁 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
第 296 頁 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.
第 296 頁 - Oh ! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight...
第 349 頁 - Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes ; The thirst of their ambition was not mine, The aim of their existence was not mine ; My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, Made me a stranger ; though I wore the form, I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, Nor midst the creatures of clay that girded me Was there but one who but of her anon.
第 9 頁 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
第 296 頁 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
第 349 頁 - Or to look, list'ning, on the scattered leaves, While Autumn winds were at their evening song. These were my pastimes, and to be alone ; For if the beings, of whom I was one, — Hating to be so, — cross'd me in my path, I felt myself degraded back to them, And was all clay again.
第 422 頁 - I stoop not to despair; For I have battled with mine agony, And made me wings wherewith to overfly The narrow circus of my dungeon wall...