The American Monthly Magazine, Band 1Peirce and Williams, 1829 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 79
Seite 7
... deep hush is so very solemn . By and by , however , the birds are all up , and the peculiar holiness of the hour declines - but what a world of music does the sun shine on ! —the deep lowing of the cattle blend- ing in with the ...
... deep hush is so very solemn . By and by , however , the birds are all up , and the peculiar holiness of the hour declines - but what a world of music does the sun shine on ! —the deep lowing of the cattle blend- ing in with the ...
Seite 8
... deep tone comes sullenly out like the echo of a far off bassoon . They are all wind - harps of different power , and as the breeze strengthens and sweeps equally over them all , their united harmony has a wonderful grandeur and beauty ...
... deep tone comes sullenly out like the echo of a far off bassoon . They are all wind - harps of different power , and as the breeze strengthens and sweeps equally over them all , their united harmony has a wonderful grandeur and beauty ...
Seite 9
... deep mysteries . I know nothing so wonderful as the shooting of a crystal . God has hidden its principle as yet from the inquisitive eye of the philosopher , and we must be content to gaze on its exquisite beauty , and listen in mute ...
... deep mysteries . I know nothing so wonderful as the shooting of a crystal . God has hidden its principle as yet from the inquisitive eye of the philosopher , and we must be content to gaze on its exquisite beauty , and listen in mute ...
Seite 10
... deep , and the vulgar never possess the serenity and compo- sure from which it alone can spring . They are always busy and hurried , and a high , sharp tone becomes habitual . There is nothing like a sweet voice to win upon the ...
... deep , and the vulgar never possess the serenity and compo- sure from which it alone can spring . They are always busy and hurried , and a high , sharp tone becomes habitual . There is nothing like a sweet voice to win upon the ...
Seite 11
... deep feeling or tender- ness . It is a glorious gift in woman . I should be won by it more than by beauty - more even than by talent , were it possible to sepa- rate them . But I never heard a deep , sweet voice from a weak woman . It ...
... deep feeling or tender- ness . It is a glorious gift in woman . I should be won by it more than by beauty - more even than by talent , were it possible to sepa- rate them . But I never heard a deep , sweet voice from a weak woman . It ...
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Beliebte Passagen
Seite 265 - He was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily : when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too.
Seite 265 - This is mentioned to vindicate tragedy from the small esteem, or rather infamy, which in the account of many it undergoes at this day, with other common interludes; happening through the poets' error of intermixing comic stuff with tragic sadness and gravity, or introducing trivial and vulgar persons; which by all judicious hath been counted absurd and brought in without discretion, corruptly to gratify the people.
Seite 434 - Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out, Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand— Come, long-sought!
Seite 272 - Caesar must bleed for it. And, gentle friends, Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds...
Seite 258 - Next, for hear me out now, readers, that I may tell ye whither my younger feet wandered, I betook me among those lofty fables and romances which recount in solemn cantos the deeds of knighthood founded by our victorious kings, and from hence had in renown over all Christendom.
Seite 21 - And time and place are lost ; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand...
Seite 168 - O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies : The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.
Seite 434 - When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed for thee; When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree, And the weary Day turned to his rest, Lingering like an unloved guest, I sighed for thee. Thy brother Death came, and cried, Wouldst thou me ? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, Murmured like a noontide bee, Shall I nestle near thy side ? Wouldst thou me?
Seite 432 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Seite 382 - ... an unheeded process in the skeleton of a mole, and whose mind like his microscope perceives nature only in detail ; the rhymer who makes smooth verses, and paints to our imagination when he should only speak to our hearts; all equally fancy themselves walking forward to immortality, and desire the crowd behind them to look on. The crowd takes them at their word. Patriot, philosopher, and poet, are shouted in their train. Where was there ever so much merit seen ; no times so important as our own...