The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volumer 16-17

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Leavitt, Trow, & Company, 1849

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Side 480 - ... sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased: now...
Side 176 - ULYSSES. IT little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel; I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly , both with those That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when Thro...
Side 471 - And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream...
Side 174 - My life is dreary, He cometh not,' she said; She said, 'I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!
Side 23 - Can I forget the dismal night that gave My soul's best part for ever to the grave? How silent did his old companions tread, By midnight lamps, the mansions of the dead, Through breathing statues, then unheeded things, Through rows of warriors, and through walks of kings! What awe did the slow solemn knell inspire; The pealing organ, and the pausing choir; The duties by the lawn-robed prelate paid: And the last words that dust to dust conveyed!
Side 472 - Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love, And looking back, at that short space Could see a glimpse of his bright face...
Side 21 - Whilst the wine-cup shines in light ! And yet, amidst that joy and uproar, Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore ! Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride, Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of Fame that died With the gallant good Riou : Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave ! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing Glory to the souls Of the Brave ! THE MARINERS OF ENGLAND.
Side 176 - And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores...
Side 480 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Side 177 - Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho...

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