The Literary Magnet of the Belles Lettres, Science, and the Fine Arts, Volume 3W.C. Wright., 1825 |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
acquainted admiration Adonijah Alexander Neuski amusement appeared army Austria beautiful breath called Castle Baynard character charms circumstances colour dear death delightful Der Freischütz earth effect endeavour Falstaff Fatal Dowry favour feelings flowers fortune France French genius gentleman give gondoliers grace hand happy heard heart honour hope hour imagination interest Italy king lady living London look Lord Byron Lord Cochrane Marlbrook means mind Momolo moral morning Napoleon nation nature never night o'er observed once party passed passion PATENT THEATRES person Petersburgh pleasure poem poet poetry possessed Preciosa present racter readers round Russia scarcely scene seemed shew sigh smile song soul Spain spirit sweet tears thee Theodric thing thou thought tion TOBIAS village volume whilst whole William Charlton young
Popular passages
Page 127 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him: The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious; If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.
Page 70 - To a poet nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination : he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little.
Page 69 - Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all.
Page 70 - The plants of the garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors of the sky must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety: for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral or religious truth; and he who knows most will have most power of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote allusions and unexpected instruction. " All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study; and every country which I have surveyed...
Page 70 - He must write as the interpreter of nature, and the legislator of mankind, and consider himself as presiding over the thoughts and manners of future generations ; as a being superior to time and place.
Page 69 - Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; " The game is done! I've won! I've won!
Page 165 - Spirit of Nature! here! In this interminable wilderness Of worlds, at whose immensity Even soaring fancy staggers, Here is thy fitting temple. Yet not the lightest leaf That quivers to the passing breeze Is less instinct with thee : Yet not the meanest worm That lurks in graves and fattens on the dead Less shares thy eternal breath. Spirit of Nature! thou! Imperishable as this scene, Here is thy fitting temple.
Page 7 - tis thou That send'st it from above, Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow Are sweet as hers we love. Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard And songs when toil is done, From cottages whose smoke unstirr'd Curls yellow in the sun.
Page 156 - Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or streaming lake, dusky or gray, Till the Sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise; Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise.
Page 133 - To whom belongs this valley fair, That sleeps beneath the filmy air, Even like a living thing ? Silent, — as infant at the breast, — Save a still sound that speaks of rest, That streamlet's murmuring ! The heavens appear to love this vale ; Here clouds with scarce-seen motion sail, Or 'mid the silence lie. By that blue arch, this beauteous earth Mid evening's hour of dewy mirth Seems bound unto the sky.