Temple Bar, Volume 38

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George Augustus Sala, Edmund Yates
Ward and Lock, 1873 - English periodicals

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Page 90 - TO HELEN. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
Page 500 - I see the spectacle of morning from the hilltop over against my house, from daybreak to sunrise, with emotions which an angel might share. The long slender bars of cloud float like fishes in the sea of crimson light. From the earth, as a shore, I look out into that silent sea. I seem to partake its rapid transformations; the active enchantment reaches my dust, and I dilate and conspire with the morning wind.
Page 459 - The lion would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard ; Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward; And, when she waked, he waited diligent, With humble service to her will prepared : From her fair eyes he took commandement, And ever by her looks conceived her intent.
Page 542 - If ever this nation should produce genius sufficient to acquire to us the honourable distinction of an English school, the name of Gainsborough will be transmitted to posterity, in the history of the art, among the very first of that rising name.
Page 456 - Crosse he bore, The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living, ever him ador'd : Upon his shield the like was also scor'd, For soveraine hope which in his helpe he had.
Page 504 - God ! God ! God ! Everything I have in my trunks that reminds me of her goes through me like a spear.
Page 504 - She is not a Cleopatra; but she is at least a Charmian. She has a rich eastern look; she has fine eyes and fine manners. When she comes into a room she makes an impression the same as the Beauty of a leopardess. She is too fine and too conscious of herself to repulse any Man who may address her — from habit she thinks that nothing particular.
Page 173 - I do not write resentfully or angrily; for I know how all these things have worked together to make me what I am; but I never afterwards forgot, I never shall forget, I never can forget, that my mother was warm for my being sent back.
Page 459 - And all the way their merry pipes they sound, That all the woods with double eccho ring, And with their horned feet do weare the ground, Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring. So towards old Sylvanus they her bring...
Page 504 - I am at such times too much occupied in admiring to be awkward or in a tremble. I forget myself entirely because I live in her. You will by this time think I am in love with her; so before I go any further I will tell you I am not — she kept me awake one Night as a tune of Mozart's might do. I speak of the thing as a pastime and an amusement, than which I can feel none deeper than a conversation with an imperial woman, the very ' yes ' and ' no ' of whose Lips is to me a Banquet.

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