The British Review, and London Critical Journal, Band 5

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Seite 137 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Seite 442 - He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves, and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper. This amicable conflict with difficulty obliges us to an intimate acquaintance with our object, and compels us to consider it in all its relations. It will not suffer us to be superficial.
Seite 139 - The sting she nourish'd for her foes, Whose venom never yet was vain, Gives but one pang, and cures all pain, And darts into her desperate brain...
Seite 153 - God do to us, who hath made us, not to devour and destroy one another, but to live soberly and kindly together in the world.
Seite 87 - For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. for there are no bands in their death : but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble as other men , neither are they plagued like other men.
Seite 140 - Can this with faded pinion soar From rose to tulip as before? Or Beauty, blighted in an hour, Find joy within her broken bower ? No: gayer insects fluttering by !Ne'er droop the wing o'er those that die, And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own, And every woe a tear can claim Except an erring sister's shame.
Seite 195 - ... with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his strength ; and, therefore, they loved him as truly and as fervently as he loved England.
Seite 138 - As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power ; So fair, so calm, so softly sealed, The first, last look, by death revealed ! Such is the aspect of this shore ; 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there.
Seite 94 - But though the ancients thus their rules invade, (As kings dispense with laws themselves have made,) Moderns, beware! or if you must offend Against the precept, ne'er transgress its end; Let it be seldom, and compelled by need; And have, at least, their precedent to plead.
Seite 138 - Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these, and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power; So fair, so calm, so softly sealed, The first, last look by death revealed...

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