The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 12

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A. Constable, 1808
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Page 458 - Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings; Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now,— instead of mounting barbed steeds, To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,— He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
Page 451 - Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Page 452 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven ! Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle...
Page 20 - Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word.) " O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?
Page 140 - Where the thin harvest waves its withered ears; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye...
Page 363 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; * if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country, and their shackles, fall.
Page 13 - DAY set on Norham's castled steep. And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep. And Cheviot's mountains lone : The battled towers, the donjon keep, The loop-hole grates where captives weep. The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
Page 135 - ... subject: but, instead of new images of tenderness, or delicate representation of intelligible feelings, he has contrived to tell us nothing whatever of the unfortunate fair one, but that her name is Martha Ray ; and that she goes up to the top of a hill, in a red cloak, and cries
Page 138 - Such is that room which one rude beam divides, And naked rafters form the sloping sides; Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are seen, And lath and mud are all that lie between; Save one dull pane, that, coarsely...
Page 20 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far, To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.

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