The Cornhill Magazine, Томове 42–43William Makepeace Thackeray Smith, Elder and Company, 1880 |
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A. H. Layard admirable æsthetic Angus Sutherland appeared Ardnamurchan artistic asked Assyrian bas-reliefs beautiful believe Belzoni better brother Cassilis Catherine Catherine's character Cimabue colour cried dear Doctor Egypt Egyptian England English eyes face fancy father Faustus feeling figure Funchal Furnivall girl give Goethe Graden hand head Hellenic honour Huddlestone human imagination Italian Italy John of Skye Laird laugh less light live Loch Loch Hourn look Madeira marry Mary Avon mean mind minuet modern Morris Townsend mother nature never night Northmour once Ornsay painting parish passed pavilion Penniman perhaps poet poor present Prince round sculpture seemed sentiment side smile speak Sterne supernatural suppose tell Teneriffe things thought tion told took town Tristram Shandy turned Uncle Toby walk whole wind woman word young
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Страница 22 - I hear! —But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Both of them speak of something that is gone: The Pansy at my feet Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
Страница 23 - In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm:— I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
Страница 362 - Keats, who was killed off by one critique, Just as he really promised something great, If not intelligible, without Greek Contrived to talk about the gods of late, Much as they might have been supposed to speak. Poor fellow ! His was an untoward fate ; 'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.
Страница 26 - There lies the port: the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me — That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine...
Страница 226 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul — see where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips And all is dross that is not Helena.
Страница 26 - Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose...
Страница 27 - Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands ; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might — Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Страница 227 - Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in, the beauty of a thousand stars...
Страница 159 - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Страница 577 - Garrick described her to me as very fat, with a bosom of more than ordinary protuberance, with swelled cheeks, of a florid red, produced by thick painting, and increased by the liberal use of cordials ; flaring and fantastic in her dress, and affected both in her speech and her general behaviour.