Chambers's Cyclopędia of English Literature: A History, Critical and Biographical, of British and American Authors, with Specimens of Their Writings, Volumes 5-6Robert Chambers American Book Exchange, 1880 - American literature |
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Page 7
... dead : While conscience , like a faithful friend , Shall through the gloomy vale attend , And cheer our dying breath ; Shall , when all other comforts cease , Like a kind angel , whisper peace , And smooth the bed of death . WILLIAM ...
... dead : While conscience , like a faithful friend , Shall through the gloomy vale attend , And cheer our dying breath ; Shall , when all other comforts cease , Like a kind angel , whisper peace , And smooth the bed of death . WILLIAM ...
Page 10
... dead ; he went to see the body , and on witnessing the unaltered placidity of death , flung himself to the other side of the room with a passionate expression of feeling , and from that time he never mentioned her name or spoke of her ...
... dead ; he went to see the body , and on witnessing the unaltered placidity of death , flung himself to the other side of the room with a passionate expression of feeling , and from that time he never mentioned her name or spoke of her ...
Page 16
... dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gavest me , though unseen , a kiss ; Perhaps a tear , if souls can weep in ...
... dead , Say , wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son , Wretch even then , life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gavest me , though unseen , a kiss ; Perhaps a tear , if souls can weep in ...
Page 36
... dead , Vault o'er the plain , and in the tangled wood , Lo ! dead Eliza weltering in her blood ! Soon hears his listening son the welcome sounds , With open arms and sparkling eye he bounds : Speak low , ' he cries , and gives his ...
... dead , Vault o'er the plain , and in the tangled wood , Lo ! dead Eliza weltering in her blood ! Soon hears his listening son the welcome sounds , With open arms and sparkling eye he bounds : Speak low , ' he cries , and gives his ...
Page 43
... dead glare of its eye then brightened into a vivid lustre , and it awkwardly shuffled to the entrance of its cell , and opened its detestable mouth to snap the passing fly or honey- bee . Since I have marked the manners of the Critical ...
... dead glare of its eye then brightened into a vivid lustre , and it awkwardly shuffled to the entrance of its cell , and opened its detestable mouth to snap the passing fly or honey- bee . Since I have marked the manners of the Critical ...
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Common terms and phrases
admiration afterwards Aiken-drum Allan Cunningham Allan Ramsay appeared bawbee beauty beneath bonny breath bright Burns Byron character Charles Lamb charm clouds Cockpen dark dear death deep delight died dream earth ELIZABETH INCHBALD eyes fair fancy father fear feeling flowers frae genius grave green hame hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven hill honour hope Horace Smith hour John Kilmeny lady lassie light literary live look Lord Lord Byron mind morning mountain native nature never night novel o'er passion poem poet poetical poetry published rose round says scenes Scotland Scott Scottish seemed shew silent Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song soul spirit stream sweet tale taste tears thee thine thing thou thought Twas Vathek verse voice volumes wandering wave wild William Laidlaw WILLIAM MOTHERWELL wind young youth
Popular passages
Page 140 - tis her privilege. Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy; for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues. Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings.
Page 324 - Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.
Page 158 - The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.
Page 290 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seemed a splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven: Porphyro grew faint: She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
Page 137 - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
Page 247 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, uncertain, coy, and hard to please, and variable as the shade by the light, quivering aspen made ; when pain and anguish wring the brow, a ministering angel thou...
Page 26 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more. Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, 'The wine is left behind!' 'Good lack,' quoth he — 'yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword, When I do exercise.
Page 138 - To them I may have owed another gift, Of aspect more sublime : that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world. Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood.
Page 297 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 291 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.