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admiration allowed appear attention Ballantyne beautiful believe better brother called character common consider course criticism Doctor doubt Edinburgh effect epigram eyes father feelings fortune give given hand Hanover-Street happy head heard heart hope human idea imagination important interest John kind lady language learned least leave less light lines live look Lord manner means mind mountains nature never object observed once opinion original perhaps Periodical person Peter play pleasure poet poetry possess possible present principles printed probably productions published readers reason remarks respect rest Sale-Room scene seems short side soon soul spirit supposed sure taste tell thing thought tion truth turned whole wish write young youth
Page 171 - Oh! there are looks and tones that dart An instant sunshine through the heart, — As if the soul that minute caught Some treasure it through life had sought...
Page 209 - Tis to create, and in creating live A being more intense, that we endow With form our fancy, gaining as we give The life we image, even as I do now. What am I? Nothing; but not so art thou, Soul of my thought! with whom I traverse earth, Invisible but gazing, as I glow Mix'd with thy spirit, blended with thy birth, And feeling still with thee in my crush'd feelings
Page 163 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
Page 116 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds, that lower'd upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Page 209 - Cut to his heart again with the keen knife Of silent, sharp endurance: he can tell Why thought seeks refuge in lone caves, yet rife With airy images, and shapes which dwell Still unimpair'd, though old, in the soul's haunted cell.
Page 26 - Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 28 - And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol, or a harp ; Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Page 171 - The' acacia waves her yellow hair, Lonely and sweet, nor lov'd the less For flowering in a wilderness. Our sands are bare, but down their slope The silvery-footed antelope As gracefully and gaily springs As o'er the marble courts of kings.
Page 190 - Boastful and rough, your first son is a 'squire ; The next a tradesman, meek, and much a liar ; Tom struts a soldier, open, bold, and brave ; "Will sneaks a scrivener, an exceeding knave.