The New London Magazine, Band 1,Ausgabe 1

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J. Mortimer, 1837
 

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Seite 4 - I was stared at, hooted at, grinned at, chattered at, by monkeys, by paroquets, by cockatoos. I ran into pagodas : and was fixed, for centuries, at the summit, or in secret rooms ; I was the idol ; I was the priest ; I was worshipped ; I was sacrificed.
Seite 233 - I, for my part, after a long, and (as I verily believe and hope) impartial search of the true way to eternal happiness, do profess plainly, that I cannot find any rest for the sole of my foot but upon this rock only.
Seite 167 - To a poet nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination ; he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little.
Seite 4 - Under the connecting feeling of tropical heat and vertical sunlights, I brought together all creatures, birds, beasts, reptiles, all trees and plants, usages and appearances, that are found in all tropical regions, and assembled them together in China or Indostan.
Seite 4 - I have called the tyranny of the human face, began to unfold itself. Perhaps some part of my London life might be answerable for this. Be that as it may, now it was that upon the rocking waters of the ocean the human face began to appear; the sea appeared paved with innumerable faces, upturned to the heavens; faces, imploring, wrathful, despairing, surged upwards by thousands, by myriads, by generations, by centuries : my agitation was in1mite, my mind tossed and surged with the ocean.
Seite 233 - I do not understand the doctrine of Luther, or Calvin, or Melancthon ; nor the confession of Augusta, or Geneva ; nor the Catechism of Heidelberg, nor the Articles of the Church of England, no, nor the harmony of Protestant Confessions ; but that wherein they all agree, and which they all subscribe with a greater harmony as a perfect rule of their faith and actions, that is, The Bible.
Seite 4 - I seemed every night to descend— not metaphorically, but literally to descend— into chasms and sunless abysses, depths below depths, from which it seemed hopeless that I could ever reascend. Nor did I, by waking, feel that I had reascended.
Seite 152 - ... the seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose; and on old Hiems' thin and icy crown an odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds is, as in mockery, set...
Seite 152 - I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war; to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt, the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd and let 'em forth By my so potent Art.
Seite 137 - THESE, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God. The rolling year Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm ; Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; And every sense, and every heart is joy.

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