Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 24

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John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell, Henry T. Steele
Leavitt, Throw and Company, 1851 - American periodicals
 

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Page 29 - A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; A spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, With pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron; Calamus and cinnamon, With all trees of frankincense; Myrrh and aloes, With all the chief spices: A fountain of gardens, A well of living waters, And streams from Lebanon.
Page 31 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 29 - Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits ; camphire with spikenard, Spikenard and saffron ; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices : A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
Page 288 - Full fain it would delay me! My dear babe, Who, capable of no articulate sound, Mars all things with his imitative lisp, How he would place his hand beside his ear, His little hand, the small forefinger up, And bid us listen!
Page 361 - This day, much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses marked with a red cross upon the doors, and "Lord have mercy upon us!" writ there; which was a sad sight to me, being the first of the kind that, to my remembrance, I ever saw.
Page 450 - Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Page 290 - And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills. But now I find, how dear thou wert to me ; That man is more than half of nature's treasure, Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see, Of that sweet music which no ear can measure ; And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure, The hills sleep on in their eternity.
Page 271 - Oh, what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame, I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart : I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Page 288 - THOU ! whose fancies from afar are brought ; Who of thy words dost make a mock apparel, And fittest to unutterable thought The breeze-like motion and the self-born carol ; Thou faery voyager ! that dost float In such clear water, that thy boat May rather seem To brood on air than on an earthly stream ; Suspended in a stream as clear as sky, Where earth and heaven do make one imagery ; 0 blessed vision ! happy child ! Thou art so exquisitely wild, 1 think of thee with many...
Page 204 - Humanity has often wept over the fate of the aborigines of this country, and philanthropy has been long busily employed in devising means to avert it. But its progress has never for a moment been arrested ; and, one by one, have many powerful tribes disappeared from the earth.

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