The New Monthly Magazine, Volumen 3E. Littell, 1822 |
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Página 21
... Pontarlier WEDDY BUTTWICONE to this lovely tagnes rom Jijon , wout Agroane , as we ear te sude , ve irst saw the bold blue 30 £ 929 te afer at me of its deep Tressat ICOMBATments of ir forests and *** ed ur backs on the scape , aut ...
... Pontarlier WEDDY BUTTWICONE to this lovely tagnes rom Jijon , wout Agroane , as we ear te sude , ve irst saw the bold blue 30 £ 929 te afer at me of its deep Tressat ICOMBATments of ir forests and *** ed ur backs on the scape , aut ...
Página 22
... Pontarlier to Orbe . Pontarlier is situated in a rich plain of pas- ture watered by the Doubs . The wooded barrier of the Jura rises majestically above the town , and the high road runs through a pass between perpendicular rocks so ...
... Pontarlier to Orbe . Pontarlier is situated in a rich plain of pas- ture watered by the Doubs . The wooded barrier of the Jura rises majestically above the town , and the high road runs through a pass between perpendicular rocks so ...
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Términos y frases comunes
admiration ancient appears Ariosto beauty called Catiline character church death delight Dublin effect Elgin Marbles England English epic poetry eyes fair fancy favour feel feet flowers French garden gaze genius give glacier Greek Guy's Cliff hand happy head heart Heaven Hesiod honour hope hour human imagination King lady letter light live London look Lord lover Martyr of Antioch Megabyzus mind Mont Blanc moral morning mountain nature never night o'er object observed once Parthenon passed passion Père La Chaise perhaps Petrarch Plato play pleasure poem poet poetical poetry possess present racter reader round Sallanche scene seems smile song SONNET soul spirit sweet taste Terpander thee thing thou thought tion town Vaud Velant verses Voltaire whole young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 415 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise...
Página 491 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Página 238 - Purification in the old law did save, And such, as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Página 236 - Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer Right onward.
Página 237 - LAWRENCE, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining? Time will run On smoother, till Favonius reinspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.
Página 551 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Página 236 - CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed...
Página 220 - God Almighty first planted a garden; and, indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures; it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man; without which buildings and palaces are but gross handyworks...
Página 491 - This dish of meat is too good for any but Anglers, or very honest men ; and I trust, you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with this secret.
Página 237 - When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills and they To heaven.