The London Quarterly Review, Volumen6

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William Lonsdale Watkinson, William Theophilus Davison
Hamilton, Adams, and Company, 1856
 

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Página 498 - So you creak it, and I want the heart to scold. Dear dead women, with such hair, too — what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms? I feel chilly and grown old.
Página 538 - The other shape, If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb, Or substance might be call'd that shadow seem'd, For each seem'd either ; black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart ; what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Página 28 - And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Página 3 - Dangerous it were for the feeble brain of man to wade far into the doings of the Most High; whom although to know be life, and joy to make mention of His Name, yet our soundest knowledge is to know that we know Him, not indeed as He is, neither can know Him ; and our safest eloquence concerning Him is our silence, when we confess without confession that His glory is inexplicable, His greatness above our capacity and reach.
Página 497 - OH Galuppi, Baldassaro, this is very sad to find! I can hardly misconceive you; it would prove me deaf and blind; But although I take your meaning, 'tis with such a heavy mind!
Página 475 - Lo ! on a narrow neck of land, 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand Secure, insensible ; A point of time, a moment's space Removes me to that heavenly place, Or shuts me up in hell.
Página 497 - Brave Galuppi! that was music! good alike at grave and gay! I can always leave off talking, when I hear a master play.
Página 497 - Did young people take their pleasure when the sea was warm in May? Balls and masks begun at midnight, burning ever to mid-day When they made up fresh adventures for the morrow, do you say? v Was a lady such a lady, cheeks so round and lips so red, On her neck the small face buoyant, like a bell-flower on its bed, O'er the breast's superb abundance where a man might base his head?
Página 104 - This spiritual Love acts not nor can exist Without Imagination, which, in truth, Is but another name for absolute power And clearest insight, amplitude of mind, And Reason in her most exalted mood.
Página 497 - Yes, you, like a ghostly cricket, creaking where a house was burned — 'Dust and ashes, dead and done with, Venice spent what Venice earned! The soul doubtless, is immortal — where a soul can be discerned.

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