The Quarterly Review, 第 35 卷

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John Murray, 1827
 

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第354页 - From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
第455页 - The martyr first, whose eagle eye Could pierce beyond the grave, Who saw his Master in the sky, And called on Him to save...
第455页 - A noble army — men and boys, The matron and the maid, Around the Saviour's throne rejoice, In robes of light arrayed. They climbed the steep ascent of Heaven, Through peril, toil, and pain. O God, to us may grace be given To follow in their train.
第67页 - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
第417页 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice : His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them ; and, when you have them, they are not worth the search.
第98页 - Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let us lodge in the villages. Let us get up early to the vineyards; let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, and the pomegranates bud forth: there will I give thee my loves.
第355页 - O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
第537页 - 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 watery depths ; all these have vanished. They live no longer in the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names.
第484页 - You well know, gentlemen, how soon one of those stupendous masses, now reposing on their shadows in perfect stillness, — how soon, upon any call of patriotism or of necessity, it would assume the likeness of an animated thing, instinct with life and motion — how soon it would ruffle, as it were, its swelling plumage — how quickly it would put forth all its beauty and its bravery, collect its scattered elements of strength, and waken its dormant thunder. Such...
第529页 - The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook : And of those...

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