The Edinburgh literary journal; or, Weekly register of criticism and belles lettres, Volume 21829 |
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Page 2
... sing within its groves ; in vain are its marble halls refreshed by the sound of fountains and the gush of lim- pid rills ! Alas ! the countenance of the king no longer shines within those halls ; the light of the Alhambra is set for ...
... sing within its groves ; in vain are its marble halls refreshed by the sound of fountains and the gush of lim- pid rills ! Alas ! the countenance of the king no longer shines within those halls ; the light of the Alhambra is set for ...
Page 13
... sing of love and thee the while ! Beloved , this tender truth believe , Thou'rt all the world to me ; And if the minstrel - lay I weave , ' Tis but to sing of thee ! And if I seek the wreath of fame , ' Tis but to twine with it thy name ...
... sing of love and thee the while ! Beloved , this tender truth believe , Thou'rt all the world to me ; And if the minstrel - lay I weave , ' Tis but to sing of thee ! And if I seek the wreath of fame , ' Tis but to twine with it thy name ...
Page 14
... sings a song worth hearing . We are glad to observe that , according to a suggestion made in our last , Madame Caradori is to appear in an ope- ratic character this evening , having undertaken to perform Polly in the " Beggar's Opera ...
... sings a song worth hearing . We are glad to observe that , according to a suggestion made in our last , Madame Caradori is to appear in an ope- ratic character this evening , having undertaken to perform Polly in the " Beggar's Opera ...
Page 16
... sings he : Oh , gie me my supper , my hinnie , my heart , Oh , gie me my supper , my ain true love ; Remember the promise that you and I made , Doun i ' the meadow , where we twa met . ' Hout ! ' quo ' the dauchter , ' wad I gie a ...
... sings he : Oh , gie me my supper , my hinnie , my heart , Oh , gie me my supper , my ain true love ; Remember the promise that you and I made , Doun i ' the meadow , where we twa met . ' Hout ! ' quo ' the dauchter , ' wad I gie a ...
Page 18
... sings high , and the sea - whelps cry , As they rise frae the whitening roar ; It's then that I look through the blackening rook , And watch by the midnicht tide ; I ken that the wind brings my rover hame , On the sea that he glories to ...
... sings high , and the sea - whelps cry , As they rise frae the whitening roar ; It's then that I look through the blackening rook , And watch by the midnicht tide ; I ken that the wind brings my rover hame , On the sea that he glories to ...
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Popular passages
Page 131 - That make the meadows green ; and, pour'd round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun. The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.
Page 131 - She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house...
Page 131 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.
Page 131 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 131 - There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
Page 131 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 131 - Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements; To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.
Page 131 - Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 16 - At the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century...
Page 225 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!