The Edinburgh literary journal; or, Weekly register of criticism and belles lettres, Volume 21829 |
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... Death of an Infant iba A Morning Walk 213 Sonnets , 251 Woman 403 The Last Crusader's Song 437 141 To ib . 398 To the Spirit of laste Το E. G. ib . 389 24P 310 The Frosty Day 420 239 THOMSON , ( JAMES ) Hope 389 362 Poems 13 81 Song ib ...
... Death of an Infant iba A Morning Walk 213 Sonnets , 251 Woman 403 The Last Crusader's Song 437 141 To ib . 398 To the Spirit of laste Το E. G. ib . 389 24P 310 The Frosty Day 420 239 THOMSON , ( JAMES ) Hope 389 362 Poems 13 81 Song ib ...
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... DEATH . " Surely to the sincere believer , death would be an ob- ject of desire instead of dread , were it not for those ties- those heart - strings - by which we are attached to life . Nor indeed do I believe that it is natural to fear ...
... DEATH . " Surely to the sincere believer , death would be an ob- ject of desire instead of dread , were it not for those ties- those heart - strings - by which we are attached to life . Nor indeed do I believe that it is natural to fear ...
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... Death , by the Rev. Robert Lorimer , LL.D. , one of the ministers of Haddington . Edin- burgh . Waugh and Innes . 8vo . 1829 . WHILE the volume before us , as being a memorial of a truly good man , and a most zealous minister , will be ...
... Death , by the Rev. Robert Lorimer , LL.D. , one of the ministers of Haddington . Edin- burgh . Waugh and Innes . 8vo . 1829 . WHILE the volume before us , as being a memorial of a truly good man , and a most zealous minister , will be ...
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... death be laid low , With his back to the field , and his feet to the foe ; And , leaving in battle no blot on his name , Look proudly to heaven from the death - bed of fame . " In the quarto edition of Gertrude of Wyoming , when the ...
... death be laid low , With his back to the field , and his feet to the foe ; And , leaving in battle no blot on his name , Look proudly to heaven from the death - bed of fame . " In the quarto edition of Gertrude of Wyoming , when the ...
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... DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF . Meanwhile the contest of O'Nial and Thurles conti- nued within a few yards of the precipice that yawned out- side the chapel . They wrestled until they reached the very edge of the cliff . At the moment when ...
... DEATH OF AN IRISH CHIEF . Meanwhile the contest of O'Nial and Thurles conti- nued within a few yards of the precipice that yawned out- side the chapel . They wrestled until they reached the very edge of the cliff . At the moment when ...
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Fréquemment cités
Page 131 - That make the meadows green ; and, pour'd round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun. The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.
Page 131 - She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house...
Page 131 - Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.
Page 131 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Page 131 - There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, There's a smile on the fruit and a smile on the flower, And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea.
Page 131 - So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Page 131 - Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements; To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon.
Page 131 - Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee.
Page 16 - At the end of the seventeenth and the beginning of the eighteenth century...
Page 225 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!