The Quarterly Review

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William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray (IV), Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle)
John Murray, 1832
 

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第337页 - Yea, the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times ; and the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time of their coming; but my people know not the judgment of the LORD.
第145页 - The world was void: The populous and the powerful was a lump, Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless; A lump of death, a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes and ocean, all stood still, And nothing stirred within their silent depths. Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropped They slept on the abyss, without a surge ; The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave; The moon, their mistress, had expired before; The winds were withered...
第295页 - ... keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope" — we have presumed to court the assistance of the friends of the drama to strengthen our infant institution.
第468页 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
第329页 - The appropriate business of poetry, (which, nevertheless, if genuine, is as permanent as pure science,) her appropriate employment, her privilege and her duty, is to treat of things not as they are, but as they appear; not as they exist in themselves, but as they seem to exist to the senses, and to the passions.
第11页 - The best that can be said of them is, that they are befooled by their own fancies, and the victims of distempered brains and ill habits of body.
第464页 - Let Sir John Eliot's body be buried in the church of that parish where he died.
第97页 - Man,' from a great part of which I could derive no instruction. When, for instance, I had read the chapter on theft, which from my infancy I had been taught was wrong, I was no more convinced that theft was wrong than belore ; so there was no accession of knowledge.
第96页 - Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound. All at her work the village maiden sings; Nor, while she turns the giddy wheel around, Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.
第22页 - Their arms away they threw, and to the hills, For earth hath this variety from heaven Of pleasure situate in hill and dale...

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