The Court Magazine and Belle Assemblée, Volume 2Edward Bull, 1833 - English literature |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 100
Page 16
... never , with the almost single exception of Iphigenia , gives elevation of character to his women . He paints them often sweet and good , sometimes impassioned , but never in- tellectual , never lofty in virtue or in vice ; and those ...
... never , with the almost single exception of Iphigenia , gives elevation of character to his women . He paints them often sweet and good , sometimes impassioned , but never in- tellectual , never lofty in virtue or in vice ; and those ...
Page 17
... never forfeited ; and with whom his influence was not limited to mat- ters of taste , literature , or even philosophy . THERE was not a finer woman in Eng- land than my cousin Georgiana . She had a dark eye and a white hand , a good ...
... never forfeited ; and with whom his influence was not limited to mat- ters of taste , literature , or even philosophy . THERE was not a finer woman in Eng- land than my cousin Georgiana . She had a dark eye and a white hand , a good ...
Page 18
... never was , but always to be wed . " And she was one and thirty , or to use her own expression , she had had " her majority " ten years , before she got the command of a husband and a household . When she did , spite of all her ...
... never was , but always to be wed . " And she was one and thirty , or to use her own expression , she had had " her majority " ten years , before she got the command of a husband and a household . When she did , spite of all her ...
Page 20
... never came to pass , except when some kind soul was sottish enough to do a silly thing , merely for the sake of realising the prophecy . Nay , tell me , thou modern Archimago , can'st thou really look behind the curtain of the present ...
... never came to pass , except when some kind soul was sottish enough to do a silly thing , merely for the sake of realising the prophecy . Nay , tell me , thou modern Archimago , can'st thou really look behind the curtain of the present ...
Page 21
... never wronged me . Why then should I suspect him ? It were unjust - nay , it were base to question his integrity or to doubt his love . " Morley was extremely distressed , and joined his companions in no very enviable frame of mind . It ...
... never wronged me . Why then should I suspect him ? It were unjust - nay , it were base to question his integrity or to doubt his love . " Morley was extremely distressed , and joined his companions in no very enviable frame of mind . It ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
admiration appeared arms Aspull beautiful Blaye blonde Captain character Charles Chatsworth colours Cornwall Countess of Tankerville court dark daugh daughter dear death delight Delorme Don Fadrique dress Duchess Duchess de Berri Duke Earl eldest emancipist England eyes favour fear feeling felt flowers French Garnet genius give Goethe gold hand happy Harriet head heard heart honour hour imagination John King lady late legs lived look Lord Lord Byron Mademoiselle Mars marriage married Mary ment Mephistopheles mind morning morning dresses mother nature never night noble party passed passion person poem poet poetry poor present racter readers Richard le Scrope round scene seemed side Sita smile song soul spirit taste tears thee thing thou thought tion whilst wife wild words young
Popular passages
Page 302 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 304 - For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale when May is past; For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where those stars 'light That downwards fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become as in their sphere. Ask me...
Page 304 - Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Page 303 - GOING TO THE WARS Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.
Page 39 - Her finger was so small, the ring Would not stay on, which they did bring, It was too wide a peck : And to say truth (for out it must) It looked like the great collar (just) About our young colt's neck.
Page 304 - Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more...
Page 56 - Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead; You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.
Page 56 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory. 'Gainst death and...
Page 303 - Growing on's cheek (but none knows how), With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin; All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes, She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this to thee? What shall, alas! become of me? THE SONGS OF BIRDS What bird so sings, yet so does wail? O 'tis the ravished nightingale. 'Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu,' she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise.
Page 56 - Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room, Even in the eyes of all posterity That wear this world out to the ending doom. So till the judgment that yourself arise, You live in this, and dwell in lovers