The Literary magnet of the belles lettres, science, and the fine arts, ed. by Tobias Merton. Vol.1 - new ser., vol.[2. Vol.2 of the new ser. wants all after p.192]., 4. köideTobias Merton (pseud) 1826 |
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... Morning Meditations , 66 My Own Fireside , by Alaric A. Watts , 241 THE LITERARY MAGNET ; AND ACADEMICAL MAGAZINE . GOETHE'S FAustus. Letters from Abroad ; or the Cockney in Italy . No. I. 13 Lines written under an Epitaph in D - D ...
... Morning Meditations , 66 My Own Fireside , by Alaric A. Watts , 241 THE LITERARY MAGNET ; AND ACADEMICAL MAGAZINE . GOETHE'S FAustus. Letters from Abroad ; or the Cockney in Italy . No. I. 13 Lines written under an Epitaph in D - D ...
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... morning's dawn be time enough ? Am I too still so young - so young , and must I Already die ? Fair also was I once , And that has been my ruin . Then my love Dwelt near me now , alas ! he's far away . My garland is all torn , and every ...
... morning's dawn be time enough ? Am I too still so young - so young , and must I Already die ? Fair also was I once , And that has been my ruin . Then my love Dwelt near me now , alas ! he's far away . My garland is all torn , and every ...
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... morning's dawn appear . MARGARET . What rises from the earth ? —that being ! he ! Send him away . What is his purpose here , On consecrated ground ? He comes for me . Thou shalt live . FAUSTUS . MARGARET . I yield to thee , O God ! and ...
... morning's dawn appear . MARGARET . What rises from the earth ? —that being ! he ! Send him away . What is his purpose here , On consecrated ground ? He comes for me . Thou shalt live . FAUSTUS . MARGARET . I yield to thee , O God ! and ...
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... morning was cold , and I was primitively naked , save that I had girded my loins with a linen roller ; I first thought of start- ing from the parapet , but changed my mind , and chose the balcony of the drawing room . At this moment my ...
... morning was cold , and I was primitively naked , save that I had girded my loins with a linen roller ; I first thought of start- ing from the parapet , but changed my mind , and chose the balcony of the drawing room . At this moment my ...
Page 19
... morning ? ' ' The news your honour , ' replied he , ' relates nearly to myself , yet I think it of some importance : the gardener having occasion to dig up a bed of onions in my garden , struck his spade against a stone box of very ...
... morning ? ' ' The news your honour , ' replied he , ' relates nearly to myself , yet I think it of some importance : the gardener having occasion to dig up a bed of onions in my garden , struck his spade against a stone box of very ...
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appeared beauty beheld bosom breath bright called Castle character charms Christchurch Clara Correggio Corwen dark dear death delight dream dress Duke of Orleans earth effect Erkenwald eyes fair fancy FAUSTUS favour fear feelings flowers genius gipseys greenwood tree hand happy hath heard heart heaven honour hope hour human imagination Kenneth King lady light LIMEUIL live look Lord lover Madame Madame de Genlis Madame Necker MAGNET MARGARET Master Lucas master Poynings MEPHISTOPHELES mind Mongomery morning mother nature never night o'er once Oriel college passed passion persons Petrarch pleasure poet possessed present Puffendorf Queen Rabelais reader replied Saladin scarcely scene seemed silent sleep smile soon sorrow soul spirit sweet Sybilla tears tell thee thine thing thou thought Trinity hall Villemorris voice Voltaire Wadham college wild wonder words young youth
Popular passages
Page 201 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 235 - The bride kissed the goblet : the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, 'Now tread we a measure !
Page 114 - I cannot blame him : at my nativity The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets ; and at my birth The frame and huge foundation of the earth Shak'd like a coward.
Page 115 - Why, so can I ; or so can any man : But will they come, when you do call for them ? Glend.
Page 245 - LET others seek for empty joys, At ball, or concert, rout, or play ; Whilst far from Fashion's idle noise, Her gilded domes, and trappings gay, I while the wintry eve away,— 'Twixt book and lute the hours divide ; And marvel how I e'er could stray From thee — my own Fire-side ! My own Fire-side ! Those simple words Can bid the sweetest dreams arise ; Awaken Feeling's tenderest chords, And fill with tears of joy...
Page 78 - Accompany the noonday nightingales ; And all the place is peopled with sweet airs ; The light clear element which the isle wears Is heavy with the scent of lemon-flowers, Which floats like mist laden with unseen showers, And falls upon the eyelids like faint sleep ; And from the moss violets and jonquils peep, And dart their arrowy odour through the brain, Till you might faint with that delicious pain.
Page 78 - To other lands, leave azure chasms of calm Over this isle, or weep themselves in dew, From which its fields and woods ever renew Their green and golden immortality.
Page 243 - We saw her mighty cable riven Like floating gossamer ! We saw her proud flag struck that morn, A star once o'er the seas, Her helm beat down, her deck uptorn, — And sadder things than these ! We saw her treasures cast away ; The rocks with pearls were sown...
Page 202 - THE WORLD'S WANDERERS. TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light Speed thee in thy fiery flight, In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now? Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray Pilgrim of heaven's homeless way, In what depth of night or day Seekest thou repose now? Weary wind, who wanderest Like the world's rejected guest, Hast thou still some secret nest On the tree or billow?
Page 79 - An envy of the isles, a pleasure-house Made sacred to his sister and his spouse. It scarce seems now a wreck of human art...