Spirit of the English Magazines, 10±ÇMunroe and Francis, 1821 |
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Angerstoff animal appeared arms arrived ATHENEUM VOL beautiful Blackwood's Magazine boat brig called canoes Cape Orford Captain character church colour Columbia river crew cried curare DAVID HUME death deck dress Duke England English eyes father fear feel feet fire fish give hand head heard heart human Indian Isaac Todd island JOHN CLARE King Kit-Cat Club lady land light Literary Gazette live look Lord Lord Byron Loudun manner Manuel Marietta ment miles mind morning natives nature never night o'er Oroonoko Palembang passed person present ring river round sail scarcely scene schooner seemed seen ship shore side soon soul sound spirit stone stood sweet thee thing thou thought tion told Tonquin took trees vessel waves whole wind wish young
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441 ÆäÀÌÁö - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
333 ÆäÀÌÁö - And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee : blessed art thou among women.
14 ÆäÀÌÁö - The night is come, like to the day Depart not thou great God away ! Let not my sins, black as the night, Eclipse the lustre of thy light ; Keep still in my horizon, for to me The sun makes not the day, but thee. Thou whose nature cannot sleep, On my temples sentry keep ; Guard me 'gainst those watchful foes, Whose eyes are open while mine close ; Let no dreams my head infest, But such as Jacob's temples blest. While I do rest, my soul advance, Make my sleep a holy trance, That I may, my...
441 ÆäÀÌÁö - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades : Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
441 ÆäÀÌÁö - Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy!
115 ÆäÀÌÁö - Ask me why this flower does show So yellow-green, and sickly too ? Ask me why the stalk is weak And bending (yet it doth not break) ? I will answer : These discover What fainting hopes are in a lover.
441 ÆäÀÌÁö - I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth...
14 ÆäÀÌÁö - While I do rest, my soul advance: Make my sleep a holy trance: That I may, my rest being wrought, Awake into some holy thought, And with as active vigour run My course, as doth the nimble sun.
14 ÆäÀÌÁö - Sleep is a death, O make me try. By sleeping, what it is to die ; And as gently lay my head On my grave, as now my bed.
81 ÆäÀÌÁö - AND thou hast walked about (how strange a story!) In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago, When the Memnonium was in all its glory, And time had not begun to overthrow Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous Of which the very ruins are tremendous.