The St. Peterburg English Review, Volume 5

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S. Warrand
1843

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Page 208 - The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the concealed comforts of a man Lock'd up in woman's love. I scent the air Of blessings, when I come but near the house, What a delicious breath marriage sends forth — The violet bed's not sweeter ! MlDDLETON.
Page 493 - A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms Appeared, and serried shields in thick array Of depth immeasurable. Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders - such as raised To height of noblest temper heroes old Arming to battle, and instead of rage Deliberate valour breathed, firm, and unmoved With dread of death to flight or foul retreat...
Page 256 - ... and still as he shouted, his voice became louder and louder till the lofty walls of Madrid rang with it : then stooping down, he placed his mouth close to the culprit's ear, still shouting, just as if he would pursue the spirit through its course to eternity, cheering it on its way. The effect, Was tremendous. I myself was so excited that I involuntarily shouted " misericordia
Page 256 - misericordia" and so did many others. God was not thought of; Christ was not thought of; only the priest was thought of, for he seemed at that moment to be the first being in existence, and to have the power of opening and shutting the gates of heaven or of hell, just as he should think proper. A striking instance of the successful working of the Popish system, whose grand aim has ever been to keep people's minds as far as possible from God, and to centre their hopes and fears in the priesthood....
Page 235 - I must here observe that the boy was fifteen years of age, that he was in many respects very intelligent, and had some knowledge of the Latin language, nevertheless he knew not the Scripture even by name, and I have no doubt, from what I subsequently observed, that at least two-thirds of his countrymen are on that important point no wiser than himself. At the doors of village inns, at the hearths of the rustics, in the fields where they labour, at the stone fountains by the...
Page 517 - And he said, What cities are these which thou hast given me, my brother? And he called them the land of Cabul unto this day.
Page 324 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Page 175 - What reason have I given you to use me as you do of late? It once was otherwise: you married me for love. SIR JOHN And you me for money: so you have your reward, and I have mine.
Page 256 - Petersburg has finer streets, Paris and Edinburgh more stately edifices, London far nobler squares, whilst Shiraz can boast of more costly fountains, though not cooler waters. But the population ! Within a mud wall, scarcely one league and a half in circuit, are contained two hundred thousand human beings, certainly forming the most extraordinary vital mass to be found in the entire world ; and be it always remembered that this mass is strictly Spanish.
Page 255 - He was dressed in yellow sulphur-coloured robes, with a high-peaked conical red hat on his head, which was shaven. Between his hands he held a parchment, on which was written something, I believe the confession of faith. Two priests led the animal by the bridle; two others walked on either side, chanting litanies, amongst which I distinguished the words of heavenly peace and tranquillity, for the culprit had been reconciled to the church, had confessed and received absolution, and had been promised...

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