Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volumen 10W. Blackwood & Sons, 1821 |
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Página 43
... James Hogg , the Ettrick Shepherd . The third edition , greatly enlarged . To which is prefixed , a Me moir of the Author's Life , written by Himself . Oliver and Boyd , Edinburgh . Such is a most imperfect enumera- tion of a few. o ...
... James Hogg , the Ettrick Shepherd . The third edition , greatly enlarged . To which is prefixed , a Me moir of the Author's Life , written by Himself . Oliver and Boyd , Edinburgh . Such is a most imperfect enumera- tion of a few. o ...
Página 44
... James Hogg , and often must he have a sore heart to think what the worthy world will do without him some twenty years hence , when he hops the twig . His death will be remembered like a total eclipse of the sun , no doubt ; and the ...
... James Hogg , and often must he have a sore heart to think what the worthy world will do without him some twenty years hence , when he hops the twig . His death will be remembered like a total eclipse of the sun , no doubt ; and the ...
Página 45
... James Robertson , a bookseller in Nicolson Street , whom I had never be- fore seen or heard of , who undertook it at once on my own terms ; and on the 1st of September , 1810 , my first number made its appearance on a quarto demy sheet ...
... James Robertson , a bookseller in Nicolson Street , whom I had never be- fore seen or heard of , who undertook it at once on my own terms ; and on the 1st of September , 1810 , my first number made its appearance on a quarto demy sheet ...
Página 46
... James Robertson , was a kind - hearted , confused body , who loved a joke and a dram . He sent for me every day about one o'clock , to consult about the publication ; and then we uniformly went down to a dark house in the Cowgate ...
... James Robertson , was a kind - hearted , confused body , who loved a joke and a dram . He sent for me every day about one o'clock , to consult about the publication ; and then we uniformly went down to a dark house in the Cowgate ...
Página 47
... James Hogg looked once more abroad over the world , and , his bril- liant career of oratory being closed , Poetry once more opened her arms to receive his embrace , He wrote the Queen's Wake ; and wishing to asto- nish some of his ...
... James Hogg looked once more abroad over the world , and , his bril- liant career of oratory being closed , Poetry once more opened her arms to receive his embrace , He wrote the Queen's Wake ; and wishing to asto- nish some of his ...
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Página 353 - Ye men of Israel, hear these words : Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you by miracles and wonders and signs, which God did by him in the midst of you, as ye yourselves also know: Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain...
Página 94 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Página 282 - But to my mind, — though I am native here, And to the manner born, — it is a custom More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
Página 94 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations ; — all were his ! _ . He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set, where were they?
Página 290 - A fiery soul, which working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity, Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms ; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.
Página 94 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gave, — Think ye he meant them for a slave?
Página 94 - And where are they ? And where art thou ? My Country ! On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more. And must thy lyre, so long divine...
Página 94 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
Página 95 - tis the hour of prayer ! Ave Maria ! 'tis the hour of love ! Ave Maria ! may our spirits dare Look up to thine and to thy Son's above ! Ave Maria ! oh, that face so fair ! Those downcast eyes beneath the Almighty dove — What though 'tis but a pictured image ? — strike — That painting is no idol, — 'tis too like.
Página 426 - Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer cloud, Without our special wonder...