New Monthly Magazine, Том 14

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Thomas Campbell, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Samuel Carter Hall, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth
E. W. Allen, 1820
 

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Страница 247 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair brea.st, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint : She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven : — Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Страница 72 - And when he was come nigh, even now at the descent of the mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice, for all the mighty works that they had seen; 38 Saying, Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord : Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest 39 And some of the Pharisees from among the multitude said unto him, Master, rebuke thy disciples.
Страница 490 - Adjoin'd, from each thing met conceives delight ; The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
Страница 505 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age Thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen Music, Liberty...
Страница 247 - Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Страница 502 - There sometimes doth a leaping fish Send through the tarn a lonely cheer ; The crags repeat the raven's croak, In symphony austere ; Thither the rainbow comes ; the cloud ; And mists that spread the flying shroud ; And sunbeams ; and the sounding blast, That, if it could, would hurry past ; But that enormous barrier binds it fast.
Страница 247 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Страница 133 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Страница 503 - I look for ghosts, but none will force Their way to me. Tis falsely said That there was ever intercourse Between the living and the dead ; For surely then I should have sight Of him I wait for day and night, With love and longings infinite.
Страница 247 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.

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