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intensity of expression, though some of his lighter lays, on the other
Though this is but the morning of his birth,
And the little stars draw near him, and they say
“Do let us keep thee company, we pray !"
“Get away from me, you silly little things!
Get you gone! All alone
Though this is but the evening of her birth,
And the little stars draw near her, and they say,
“Do let us go along with thee, we pray !”
“Oh certainly, my pretty little dears!
Must we thus, all of us,
The golden stars accompany their Queen;
In them, as in a looking-glass, the Sage
Sees shadowless the Future's mystic page;
And from them (and, on occasions, from the Moon,)
He in vain duns his brain,
Each with its thought or deed, its Why or How:
COLERIDGE. AN ALTAR. Full in the middle of this pleasantness There stood a marble altar with a tress Of flowers budded newly: and the dew Had taken fairy phantasies to strew Daisies upon the sacred sward last eve, And so the dawned light in pomp receive.
KEATS. A WITCH'S CAVE. There once a charnel-house, now a vast cave, Over whose brow a pale and untrod grave Throws out her heavy sbade, the mouth, thick arms Of darksome yew, sunproof, for ever choke; Within rests barren darkness; fruitless drought Pines in eternal night; the steam of hell Yields not so lazy air. There, that's her cell.
MARSTON's Wonder of Women.
A DEW-DROP. What is heaven ? A globe of dew, Filling in the morning new
Some eyed flower, whose young leaves waken On an unimagined world :
Constellated suns unshaken,
In that frail and fading sphere,
He had been rear'd Among the mountains, and he in his heart Was half a shepherd on the stormy seas. Oft in the piping shrouds had Leonard heard The tones of waterfalls and inland sounds Of caves and trees; and when the regular wind Between the tropics fill'd the steady sail, And blew with the same breath for days and weeks, Lengthening invisibly its weary line Along the cloudless main, he, in those hours Of tiresome indolence, would often hang Over the vessel's side, and gaze and gaze; And while the broad green wave and sparkling foam Rush'd round him, images and hues that wrought In union with th' employment of his heart, He, thus by feverish passion overcome Even with the organs of his bodily eye, Below him, in the bosom of the deep, Saw mountains—saw the forms of sheep that grazed On verdant hills—with dwellings among trees, And shepherds clad in the same country grey Which he himself had worn.
In his words
A SEA BEACH.
The bridegroom sea
THE MORNING MOON.
Anne. Say, I did -
Thorold. That instinct
Marston's Anne Blake.
A WALK. Like a new-born spirit did he pass Through the green evening quiet, in the sun O'er many a heath, through many a woodland dun, Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.
THE MARGIN OF THE LAKE.
This day is published, No. I. of QELECTED SERIES of FRENCH
LITERATURE. The want of a well-selected series of French Translations has long been felt by three classes of readers : those who are altogether ignorant of the language; those who know it so slightly as not to be able to appreciate its beauties of style and redundancies of meaning; and those who, although well able to do so, have neither the time nor the means at hand to prosecute any very extensive researches into the more recondite provinces of French Literature.
To supply the wants of these three classes we propose to issue a series of translations, embracing one entire cycle of literary progress, extending from Mme. de Sévigné to the French Revolution. These translations will be executed in the best possible manner, and a conscientious endeavour will be made to render them not merely transcripts of the sense, but also correct reflexes of the style. The selections from each author will be made with the double view of rendering the collection as entertaining and as instructive as possible, and also of giving the most striking samples of that author's beauties and peculiarities; they will be prefixed by a comprehensive memoir of each author, and will be supplied with such annotations as may be necessary fully to explain the text. All passages tending against morality or the principles of religion will be carefully excluded from the selection.
In carrying out this idea, it is not the intention of the projectors to confine themselves to those great authors whose names are most conspicuous in French Literature. Many authors of less note, but not inferior interest, will be admitted, and some of them will probably be introduced for the first time to the English reader.
The series will appear in fortnightly numbers, containing thirty-two pages 8vo., at Threepence per number, so that two volumes, of 350 pages each, will be issued in the course of a year.
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