Literary Hours: Or, Sketches Critical and Narrative, Volume 2J. Burkitt, 1800 - English literature |
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Page 17
... Fingal's mighty son , from trembling chords Of untouch'd harp , self - sounding in the night . Perhaps th ' afflicted Genius of the lake That leaves the wat'ry grot , each night to mourn VOL . II . D The waste of time , his desolated ...
... Fingal's mighty son , from trembling chords Of untouch'd harp , self - sounding in the night . Perhaps th ' afflicted Genius of the lake That leaves the wat'ry grot , each night to mourn VOL . II . D The waste of time , his desolated ...
Page 59
... Fingal heard it the first . sighs of his bosom rose . ' Some of my heroes are low , ' said the grey haired king of Morven . ' I hear the sound of death on the harp . Ossian , touch the trembling string . Bid the sorrow rise ; that their ...
... Fingal heard it the first . sighs of his bosom rose . ' Some of my heroes are low , ' said the grey haired king of Morven . ' I hear the sound of death on the harp . Ossian , touch the trembling string . Bid the sorrow rise ; that their ...
Page 61
... scene in the hall of Fingal , than which nothing can be more striking and im- pressive , nothing more fully prove of what + Vol . i . p . 373 . vast importance to poetry are the superstitions , the offspring NO . XXIV . 61 HOURS .
... scene in the hall of Fingal , than which nothing can be more striking and im- pressive , nothing more fully prove of what + Vol . i . p . 373 . vast importance to poetry are the superstitions , the offspring NO . XXIV . 61 HOURS .
Page 67
... Fingal commanded his bards ; they sung over the death of Lorma . The daughters of Mor- ven mourned her , for one day in the year , when the dark winds of autumn returned ! " * Of the passages I have now given , two ; one from Apollonius ...
... Fingal commanded his bards ; they sung over the death of Lorma . The daughters of Mor- ven mourned her , for one day in the year , when the dark winds of autumn returned ! " * Of the passages I have now given , two ; one from Apollonius ...
Page 179
... Fingal and Temora are solely indebted to Mr. Macpherson for their form , and for probably , a very considerable portion of their matter , and as the bard under whose name they are now published was totally unknown till within these ...
... Fingal and Temora are solely indebted to Mr. Macpherson for their form , and for probably , a very considerable portion of their matter , and as the bard under whose name they are now published was totally unknown till within these ...
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admirable amatory amiable Anacreon ancient Aristophanes Arnold bard beauty blast blest bosom brother Callimachus Catullus celebrated character Cicero clouds Collins comedies composition critic Dar-thula dark death delight Demosthenes diction edition elegant Elegies Ennius epic Euripides excellence exclaimed exquisite eyes fancy father felicity Fingal genius ghost Gray Grecian harmony heart honour Horace imagery imitations justly light literature Livy Lucretius lyric poetry manner Mason melancholy merit mingled Miss Maria MOOR mournful Muse Nathos nature night NUMBER o'er observes Orations Ossian Ovid passages pathetic Petrarch pictoresque pieces Pindar poem poet poetic possess praise productions Propertius quæ Quintilian rapture Roman Sappho satire scene scenery sentiment Shakspeare sigh simplicity song Sophocles sorrow soul specimen spirit Stesichorus stranger style sublime superstition sweet Tacitus taste tears Temora tender thee thou Tibullus tion tomb Tragedies translation versification Virgil voice Warton whilst wild wind
Popular passages
Page 124 - REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, slow, Or by the lazy Scheld or wandering Po ; Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor Against the houseless stranger shuts the door ; Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies, A weary waste expanding to the skies ; Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Page 338 - Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tower, Where I may oft out-watch the Bear With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere The spirit of Plato, to unfold What worlds or what vast regions hold The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook...
Page 298 - Sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares, And frantic Passions, hear thy soft control.
Page 3 - I, clapping my hands cheerily together, that was I in a desert, I would find out wherewith in it to call forth my affections : — if I could not do better, I would fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek some melancholy cypress to connect myself to; — I would court their shade, and greet them kindly for their protection ; — I would cut my name upon them, and swear they were the loveliest trees throughout the desert; — if their leaves withered, I would teach myself to mourn: — and when...
Page 458 - Or gazed in merry clusters by your side ? Ye who can smile — to wisdom no disgrace — At the arch meaning of a kitten's face ; If spotless innocence, and infant mirth, Excites to praise, or gives reflection birth ; In shades like these pursue your favorite joy, Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy.
Page 253 - Along the woods, along the moorish fens, Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm ; And up among the loose disjointed cliffs, And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawling brook And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear.
Page 71 - Inspire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide ; Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth, For well I know, wherever ye reside, There harmony, and peace, and innocence abide.
Page 229 - I sit by the mossy fountain; on the top of the hill of winds. One tree is rustling above me. Dark waves roll over the heath. The lake is troubled below. The deer descend from the hill. No hunter at a distance is seen. It is mid-day: but all is silent.
Page 242 - There oft is heard, at midnight, or at noon, Beginning faint, but rising still more loud, And nearer, voice of hunters, and of hounds, And horns, hoarse winded, blowing far and keen: — Forthwith the hubbub multiplies; the gale Labours with wilder shrieks, and rifer din Of hot pursuit; the broken cry of deer Mangled by throttling dogs; the shouts of men, And hoofs, thick beating on the hollow hill.
Page 243 - Or thither, where beneath the show'ry west The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid : Once foes, perhaps, together now they rest...