The Rambler's Magazine: Or, Fashionable Emporium of Polite Literature ..., Volume 1

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Benbow, 1822
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Page 92 - How beautiful this night ! the balmiest sigh, Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear, Were discord to the speaking quietude That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love had spread To curtain her sleeping world.
Page 428 - Thus every Part was full of Vice, Yet the whole Mass a Paradise...
Page 265 - He looks and laughs at a' that. A prince can mak' a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that ; But an honest man's aboon his might — Guid faith, he mauna fa' that ! For a
Page 92 - So idly, that rapt fancy deemeth it A metaphor of peace ; all form a scene Where musing Solitude might love to lift Her soul above this sphere of earthliness ; Where Silence undisturbed might watch alone, So cold, so bright, so still.
Page 428 - And Virtue, who from Politicks Had learn'da Thousand Cunning Tricks, Was, by their happy Influence, Made Friends with Vice: And ever since, The worst of all the Multitude Did something for the Common Good.
Page 431 - Ambition was my idol, which was broken Before the shrines of Sorrow, and of Pleasure; And the two last have left me many a token O'er which reflection may be made at leisure; Now, like Friar Bacon's brazen head, I've spoken, 'Time is, Time was, Time's past...
Page 29 - Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms Must pay the penalty for lawless charms." Thus serious they! but he who gilds the skies, The gay Apollo thus to Hermes cries...
Page 521 - Charmer of an idle Hour, Object of my warm Desire, Lip of Wax, and Eye of Fire : And thy snowy taper waist, With my Finger gently brac'd ; And thy pretty swelling Crest, With my little Stopper prest ; And the sweetest Bliss of Blisses, Breathing from thy balmy Kisses.
Page 522 - The root of evil, avarice, That damn'd ill-natur'd baneful vice, Was slave to prodigality, That noble sin; whilst luxury Employ'da million of the poor, And odious pride a million more: Envy itself and vanity Were ministers of industry...
Page 30 - Add thrice the chains, and thrice more firmly bind ; Gaze, all ye gods, and, every goddess, gaze, Yet eager would I bless the sweet disgrace.

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