The American Monthly Magazine, 1 tomasPeirce and Williams, 1829 |
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3 psl.
... feeling of necessity for much indulgence . In selecting the most prominent of the literary and political magazines of England as our professed model , we trust we shall not be understood as expecting to equal it . In the present state ...
... feeling of necessity for much indulgence . In selecting the most prominent of the literary and political magazines of England as our professed model , we trust we shall not be understood as expecting to equal it . In the present state ...
4 psl.
... feelings which should ever be held sacred . We shall take no side in Politics . Our pages will be open to fair and ... feeling which may not be lost upon him as a critic . He has been told of his faults temperately and in a spirit of ...
... feelings which should ever be held sacred . We shall take no side in Politics . Our pages will be open to fair and ... feeling which may not be lost upon him as a critic . He has been told of his faults temperately and in a spirit of ...
10 psl.
... feeling that was not utterly degra ded , whose voice did not deepen to a chord of grandeur , or soften to cadences to which a harp might have been swept pleasantly . It is a perfect instrument as it comes from the hand of its Maker ...
... feeling that was not utterly degra ded , whose voice did not deepen to a chord of grandeur , or soften to cadences to which a harp might have been swept pleasantly . It is a perfect instrument as it comes from the hand of its Maker ...
11 psl.
... 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 is the ...
... 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 is the ...
14 psl.
... feeling , in the midst of a great people , has something of awfulness in it which exceeds even the impressiveness of nature's breathless Sabbath . I know few things more imposing than to walk the streets of a city when the peal of the ...
... feeling , in the midst of a great people , has something of awfulness in it which exceeds even the impressiveness of nature's breathless Sabbath . I know few things more imposing than to walk the streets of a city when the peal of the ...
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admiration affection American Anahuac ancient Asia battle of Ayacucho beau ideal beauty bosom breath bright Chaldea Champollion character clouds color common criticism deep delightful deluge Downer dream early earth England English fancy favor fear feeling folded palm friends genius give Goethe Göthe hand heart heaven Homer honor human Iliad imagination inhabitants interest Joab lady language learned light literary literature living look manner ment Mexico mind moral nation nature never night Nubia o'er object opinion passed passion peculiar Petrarch pleasure poems poet poetry praise present racter readers remarkable Review romance scene seems Shakspeare soon soul South America Southern Review Spain spirit story sweet talent taste things thou thought tion Toltecs truth Vivian Grey voice whole wind wonder writers young youth Zarephath
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265 psl. - 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.
265 psl. - 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.
434 psl. - 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!
272 psl. - 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...
258 psl. - 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.
21 psl. - 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...
168 psl. - 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.
434 psl. - 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?
432 psl. - 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...
382 psl. - ... 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...