The Anglo-American Magazine, Band 1

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Maclear., 1852
 

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Seite 224 - Oft, on a plat of rising ground, I hear the far-off curfew sound Over some wide-watered shore. Swinging slow with sullen roar...
Seite 338 - The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief: Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
Seite 358 - And things seemingly the most insignificant imaginable, are perpetually observed to be necessary conditions to other things of the greatest importance; so that any one thing whatever may, for aught we know to the contrary, be a necessary condition to any other.
Seite 25 - longeth to that art, So Jupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne know I none So worthy to be loved as Palamon, That serveth you, and will do all his life; And if that ever ye shall be a wife, Forget not Palamon, the gentle man.
Seite 52 - Children's children are the crown of old men; and the glory of children are their fathers.
Seite 338 - The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.
Seite 338 - And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come, To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home...
Seite 236 - These words of an ancient volume, got up principally by "ignorant and unlearned men," have, through all time, kept up, somehow, a strange sort of power over the minds of poor, simple fellows, like Tom. They stir up the soul from its depths, and rouse, as with trumpet call, courage, energy, and enthusiasm, where before was only the blackness of despair.
Seite 226 - I find his Grace my very good Lord indeed, and I believe he doth as singularly favour me as any subject within this realm ; howbeit, son Roper, I may tell thee, I have no cause to be proud thereof ; for if my head would win him a castle in France (for then there was war between us) it should not fail to go.
Seite 309 - I CANNOT call Riches better than the baggage of virtue. The Roman word is better, im-pedimenta. For as the baggage is to an army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be spared nor left behind, but it hindereth the march; yea and the care of it sometimes loseth or disturbeth the victory.

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