The St. James's Magazine, Band 8W. Kent, 1863 |
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affairs appeared asked beautiful Behringbright believe better called cause close confidence considerable Constance course dear death desire doubt effect England English evidently expression eyes face fact Fairfax favour fear feeling felt gave give Glengariff half hand head heard heart honour hope hour interest Italy kind known lady land least leave less light live look Lord Madeleine manner matter means mind Miss morning nature never night observed once passed perhaps person poor position possessed present Price reason received regard remain replied round royal seemed seen side Sir Bedford Sir Charles soon speak strange tell thing thought thousand took turn voice wife wish young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 41 - The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Seite 442 - Here she was wont to go ! and here ! and here ! Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow : The world may find the spring by following her, For other print her airy steps ne'er left. Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk ! But like the soft west wind she shot along, And where she went, the flowers took thickest root, As she had sowed them with her odorous foot.
Seite 215 - Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake : Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble ; Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. All. Double, double, toil and trouble ; Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. 3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf; Witches...
Seite 445 - UPON A CHILD THAT DIED. Here she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood ; Who as soon fell fast asleep As her little eyes did peep. Give her strewings, but not stir The earth that lightly covers her ! EPITAPH UPON A CHILD.
Seite 453 - Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie Thy Soul's immensity ; Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,@ Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave...
Seite 453 - Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind, That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, Haunted for ever by the eternal Mind, — Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; Thou, over whom thy immortality Broods like the day, a master o'er a slave, A Presence which is not to be put by...
Seite 446 - GRACE FOR A CHILD. HERE a little child I stand. Heaving up my either hand: Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to thee, For a benizon to fall On our meat, and on us all.
Seite 82 - From hers th' allay ; from mine, the metal take. — Cowley. THE POETICAL PROPAGATION OF LIGHT. The Prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all, From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall ; Then from those wombs of stars, the Bride's bright eyes, At every glance a constellation flies, And sows the court with stars, and doth prevent In light and power, the all-ey'd firmament : First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes, Then from their beams their jewels' lustres rise ; And from their jewels torches...
Seite 448 - TIMELY blossom, Infant fair, Fondling of a happy pair, Every morn and every night Their solicitous delight, Sleeping, waking, still at ease, Pleasing, without skill to please ; Little gossip, blithe and hale, Tattling many a broken tale, Singing many a tuneless song, Lavish of a heedless tongue ; Simple maiden, void of art, Babbling out the very heart, Yet abandon'd to thy will, Yet imagining no ill, Yet too innocent to blush...
Seite 446 - Go, pretty child, and bear this flower Unto thy little Saviour ; And tell him, by that bud now blown, He is the Rose of Sharon known. When thou hast said so, stick it there Upon his bib or stomacher ; And tell him, for good handsel too, That thou hast brought a whistle new, Made of a clean strait oaten reed, To charm his cries at time of need.