The International Magazine of Literature, Art, and Science, Volume 2Stringer & Townsend, 1851 |
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Aminta Andrew Marvel appeared arms Ashburner asked beautiful Blassemare called Camarina character Charrebourg child church daugh dear death door England eyes face fancy father fear feeling Felina gentleman girl give hand Hazeldean Hazleton head heard heart honor interest Italy John Hastings Jonas lady Lenny letter light literary living looked Lucille Madame Marquis Maulear ment mind Miss Gibbs Monsieur Dubois Monsieur Le Prun Monte-Leone mother Naples nature never night Paris passed person Pisistratus poems poor present published Randal replied Riccabocca rich Rome Rovero seemed Signor Sir Philip Hastings smile society soon Sorrento soul spirit Squire Stirn strange Taddeo tell thing thou thought tion Tom Purcell took Tracy turned Visconte voice volumes walked whole wife woman words write young
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Pagina 316 - Day by day, when I saw with what a front she met suffering, I looked on her with an anguish of wonder and love. I have seen nothing like it; but, indeed, I have never seen her parallel in anything. Stronger than a man, simpler than a child, her nature stood alone.
Pagina 166 - Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken— The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!
Pagina 316 - Whether it is right or advisable to create beings like Heathcliff, I do not know: I scarcely think it is. But this I know: the writer who possesses the creative gift owns something of which he is not always master - something that, at times, strangely wills and works for itself. He may lay down rules and devise principles, and to rules and principles it will perhaps for years lie in subjection; and then, haply without any warning of revolt, there comes a time when it will no longer consent to 'harrow...
Pagina 180 - Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore Alone upon the threshold of my door Of individual life, I shall command The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand Serenely in the sunshine as before, Without the sense of that which I forbore, . . Thy touch upon the palm.
Pagina 151 - The storm has gone over me ; and I lie like one of those old oaks which the late hurricane has scattered about me. I am stripped of all my honours, I am torn up by the roots, and lie prostrate on the earth ! There, and prostrate there, I most unfeignedly recognize the Divine justice, and in some degree submit to it.
Pagina 360 - If these writings of the Greeks agree with the book of God, they are useless, and need not be preserved; if they disagree, they are pernicious, and ought to be destroyed.
Pagina 87 - A fierce yell greeted my evolution, and the wolves, slipping upon their haunches, sailed onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. Thus I gained nearly a hundred yards at each turning. This was repeated two or three times, every moment the animals getting more excited and baffled.
Pagina 440 - This, my Lord, I write sincerely without any other end than to perform my duty to the publick in helping them to an humble servant; laying aside those jealousies and that emulation which mine own condition might suggest to me by bringing in such a coadjutor; and remain, my Lord, your most obliged and faithful servant, JOHN MILTON.
Pagina 129 - Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad...
Pagina 86 - I had left my friend's house one evening just before dusk, with the intention of skating a short distance up the noble river which glided directly before the door. The night was beautifully clear.