The Port Folio

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Joseph Dennie, John Elihu Hall
Editor and Asbury Dickens, 1821

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Seite 139 - Ten thousand echoes greet, And from rock to rock repeat, Round our coast. While the manners, while the arts That mould a nation's soul, Still cling around our hearts, Between let ocean roll, Our joint communion breaking with the sun;— Yet still from either beach, The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech,
Seite 139 - veins, And shall we not proclaim That blood of honest fame Which no tyranny can tame By its chains? While the language free and bold Which the bard of Avon sung, In which our Milton told How the vault of heaven rung, When Satan, blasted, fell with all his host; While these with reverence meet,
Seite 332 - hast put all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen, yea, and beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, and the fish of the sea;" " this,
Seite 324 - himself not a little prejudiced in its favour. After declaring, with some ostentation, that " he has laboured to refine our language to grammatical purity, and to clear it from colloquial barbarisms, licentious idioms, and irregular combinations;" that " something perhaps he has added to the elegance of its construction, and
Seite 284 - frame; O'er my dim eyes a darkness bung My ears with hollow murmurs rung' In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd; My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd; My feeble pulse forgot to play I fainted, sunk and died away. To
Seite 138 - Sons of a day! just buoyant on the flood, Then numbered with the puppies in the mud. Ask ye their names? I could as soon disclose The names of these blind puppies as of those. Fast by, like Niobe, (her children gone)
Seite 107 - seacoast, extending a mile in length, and a quarter of a mile in breadth. It was fortified by the English, though not in a very perfect manner; but being well garrisoned, it withstood a long siege from a numerous army under the Spanish general
Seite 76 - Tis sweet to hold the infant stems, Yet dropping with Aurora's gems, And fresh inhale the spicy sighs That from the weeping buds arise. When revel reigns, when mirth is high, And Bacchus beams in every eye, Our rosy fillets scent exhale, And fill with balm the fainting gale!
Seite 84 - shower Has injur'd its elastic power.-" The fatal bow the urchin drew;' Swift from the string the arrow flew; Oh! swift it flew as glancing flame, And to my very soul it came! " Fare thee well," 1 heard him say, As laughing wild he wing'd away; Fare thee well, for now 1 know - The rain has

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