The Monthly review. New and improved ser, Band 291799 |
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Seite 3
... seems a clash of epithets between gentle and potent . Nor do we very clearly see why onde , a wave , or stream , is rendered shade . The beautiful ode to Love , in this tragedy , which abounds with original and ingenious thoughts ...
... seems a clash of epithets between gentle and potent . Nor do we very clearly see why onde , a wave , or stream , is rendered shade . The beautiful ode to Love , in this tragedy , which abounds with original and ingenious thoughts ...
Seite 8
... seems to have been Thomyris , by Angelo Ingegneri , 1607. The merit of this drama is discussed by Mr. 1607 . 8 Walker's Historical Memoir on Italian Tragedy . Walker's (J C ) Memoir on Italian Tra- gedy, (John) Key to the Pronuncia-
... seems to have been Thomyris , by Angelo Ingegneri , 1607. The merit of this drama is discussed by Mr. 1607 . 8 Walker's Historical Memoir on Italian Tragedy . Walker's (J C ) Memoir on Italian Tra- gedy, (John) Key to the Pronuncia-
Seite 10
... seems minutely to have traced it to a much higher period ; and what Mr. W. calls airs , which were so fre- quently introduced in Testi's drama , written in 1636 , and re- citata at Bologna in 1646 , according to the Drammaturgia , could ...
... seems minutely to have traced it to a much higher period ; and what Mr. W. calls airs , which were so fre- quently introduced in Testi's drama , written in 1636 , and re- citata at Bologna in 1646 , according to the Drammaturgia , could ...
Seite 12
... seems to sing a palinodia , in speaking of the powerful effects of Love in Metastasio , when he wrote his Didone , and in all others when that drama was performed ; ex- claiming , Such is thy so potent art , O Love ! The tragedies of ...
... seems to sing a palinodia , in speaking of the powerful effects of Love in Metastasio , when he wrote his Didone , and in all others when that drama was performed ; ex- claiming , Such is thy so potent art , O Love ! The tragedies of ...
Seite 14
... seems a clash of epithets . The author somewhat too frequently , perhaps , tells his readers that the letters and ... seem ) being in another kingdom , and perhaps never seeing the proofs , the Errata are innumerable : for besides those ...
... seems a clash of epithets . The author somewhat too frequently , perhaps , tells his readers that the letters and ... seem ) being in another kingdom , and perhaps never seeing the proofs , the Errata are innumerable : for besides those ...
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Seite 205 - tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it. And hark! how blithe the throstle sings! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your Teacher.
Seite 201 - First named these notes a melancholy strain. And many a poet echoes the conceit ; Poet who hath been building up the rhyme When he had better far have stretched his limbs Beside a brook in mossy forest-dell, By sun or moon-light, to the influxes Of shapes and sounds and shifting elements Surrendering his whole spirit...
Seite 201 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Seite 200 - No cloud, no relique of the sunken day Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues. Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge ! You see the glimmer of the stream beneath, But hear no murmuring : it flows silently, O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still, A balmy night ! and though the stars be dim, Yet let us think upon the vernal showers That gladden the green earth, and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars. And hark ! the Nightingale...
Seite 202 - Full fain it would delay me! My dear babe, Who, capable of no articulate sound, Mars all things with his imitative lisp, How he would place his hand beside his ear, His little hand, the small forefinger up, And bid us listen!
Seite 420 - Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death...
Seite 200 - But hear no murmuring: it flows silently, O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still, A balmy night! and though the stars be dim, Yet let us think upon the vernal showers That gladden the green earth, and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars. And hark! the Nightingale begins its song, 'Most musical, most melancholy
Seite 204 - The sun, above the mountain's head, A freshening lustre mellow Through all the long green fields has spread, His first sweet evening yellow. Books ! 'tis a dull and endless strife : Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music ! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.
Seite 205 - One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. Sweet is the lore which Nature brings ; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things : — We murder to dissect. Enough of Science and of Art ; Close up those barren leaves ; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
Seite 41 - We join no feeling and attach no form! As if the soldier died without a wound; As if the fibres of this godlike frame Were gored without a pang...