MacMillan's Magazine, Volumen28Sir George Grove, David Masson, John Morley, Mowbray Morris 1873 |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
MacMillan's Magazine, Volumen57 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Vista completa - 1888 |
MacMillan's Magazine, Volumen20 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Vista completa - 1869 |
MacMillan's Magazine, Volumen73 Sir George Grove,David Masson,John Morley,Mowbray Morris Vista completa - 1896 |
Términos y frases comunes
Alice American Fall asked aunt Avignon Barvas beautiful boat Borva called Cavander Church Clym colour Colvin Comberwood companion dinner dress England English Exeter eyes F. C. BURNAND face fancy father Festival girl give Goat Island Gothenburg GRACECHURCH STREET hand heard heart Holyshade Holyshadian Horseshoe Fall husband India Ingram interest kind King knew labour lady laughed Lavender Lavender's Lewis live Loch Roag London look Lord Lorraine Mackenzie Mairi marry matter ment mind morning nation never night Nurse Davis once opinion papa passed Pazon perhaps person Petrarch present PRINCESS OF THULE river round seemed seen Sheila smile sort speak Stornoway strange sure talk tell thing THOMAS KEATING thought tion turned Uncle Verney voice walked wass wish woman word young
Pasajes populares
Página 298 - Two Voices are there ; one is of the sea, One of the mountains ; each a mighty Voice : In both from age to age thou didst rejoice, They were thy chosen music, Liberty ! There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : Then cleave...
Página 298 - Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee; she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on...
Página 294 - One lesson, shepherd, let us two divide, Taught both by what she shows, and what conceals • Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Página 541 - I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being sown up and down may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book : who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book. kills reason itself; kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
Página 542 - Where there is much desire to learn, there of necessity will be much arguing, much writing, many opinions; for opinion in good men is but knowledge in the making. Under these fantastic terrors of sect and schism we wrong the earnest and zealous thirst after knowledge and understanding which God hath stirred up in this city.
Página 542 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks. Methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam...
Página 294 - The immeasurable height Of woods decaying, never to be decayed, The stationary blasts of waterfalls, And in the narrow rent, at every turn, Winds thwarting winds bewildered and forlorn...
Página 8 - GENTLE Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child, Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to thee.
Página 297 - It is not to be thought of that the flood Of British freedom, which, to the open sea Of the world's praise, from dark antiquity Hath flowed, " with pomp of waters, unwithstood...
Página 294 - Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls ;— " Quell the Scot," exclaims the Lance — Bear me to the heart of France, Is the longing of the Shield — Tell thy name, thou trembling Field ; Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory ! Happy day, and mighty hour...