The Critical Review: Or, Annals of Literature, Volume 4 (Google eBook)

Front Cover
Tobias George Smollett
R[ichard]. Baldwin, at the Rose in Pater-noster-Row, 1816 - English literature
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Page 500 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Page 498 - To chase the glowing hours with flying feet — But hark ! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm ! Arm ! it is — it is — the cannon's opening roar Within a windowed niche of that high hall Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear...
Page 498 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 498 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell...
Page 573 - Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray. An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot, A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Page 495 - Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves bound beneath me as a steed That knows his rider. Welcome, to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead ! Though the...
Page 579 - 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 dropp'd They slept on the abyss without a surge...
Page 570 - Twas still some solace in the dearth Of the pure elements of earth, To hearken to each other's speech ,. And each turn comforter to each With some new hope, or legend old, Or song heroically bold; But even these at length grew cold.
Page 360 - I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth, and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man, kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.
Page 578 - And they were enemies; they met beside The dying embers of an altar-place Where had been heap'da mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they raked up, And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes äs it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects - saw, and shriek'd, and died Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose brow...

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