The Analectic Magazine...: Comprising Original Reviews, Biography, Analytical Abstracts of New Publications, Volume 3 (Google eBook)

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Published and sold by Moses Thomas, 1814
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Page 358 - What though the field be lost ? All is not lost ; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield, And what is else not to be overcome ; That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me.
Page 355 - I saw her in my dream, adorn'd With what all Earth or Heaven could bestow To make her amiable : on she came , Led by her Heav'nly Maker , though unseen , And guided by his voice; nor uninform'd Of nuptial sanctity , and marriage rites : Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her eye, In every gesture dignity and love.
Page 359 - These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind.
Page 245 - O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly : And mouldering now in silent dust That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core Shall live my Highland Mary.
Page 357 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep f alleth on men, Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up : It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice...
Page 253 - KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
Page 478 - O early ripe! to thy abundant store What could advancing age have added more? It might (what Nature never gives the young) Have taught the numbers of thy native tongue. But satire needs not those, and wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line.
Page 83 - O ! sacred to the fall of day Queen of propitious stars, appear, And early rise, and long delay, When Caroline herself is here ! Shine on her chosen green resort Whose trees the sunward summit crown, And wanton flowers, that well may court An angel's feet to tread them down...
Page 244 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Page 116 - Few minutes had passed, ere they spied on the stream A skiff sailing light, where a lady did seem ; Her sail was the web of the gossamer's loom, The glow-worm her wakelight, the rainbow her boom ; A dim rayless beam was her prow and her mast, Like wold-fire, at midnight, that glares on the waste.

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