Sharpe's London magazine, a journal of entertainment and instruction. [entitled] Sharpe's London journal. [entitled] Sharpe's London magazine, conducted by mrs. S.C. Hall, Bände 6-7

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Anna Maria Hall
 

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Seite 366 - Say first, of God above, or man below, What can we reason, but from what we know? Of man, what see we but his station here, From which to reason, or to which refer?
Seite 314 - Oh ! when a Mother meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night, For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight...
Seite 71 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Seite 308 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.
Seite 373 - SIR, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool : But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.
Seite 371 - While Butler, needy wretch, was yet alive. No generous patron would a dinner give : See him, when starved to death, and turned to dust, Presented with a monumental bust. The poet's fate is here in emblem shown : He asked for bread, and he received a stone.
Seite 352 - Denmark when she no longer resists. The line of defence which covered her shores has struck to the British flag: but if the firing is continued on the part of Denmark, he must set on fire all the prizes that he has taken, without having the power of saving the men who have so nobly defended them. The brave Danes are the brothers, and should never be the enemies of the English.
Seite 71 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log, at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day, Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall, and die that night; It was the plant, and flower of light. In small proportions, we just beauties see: And in short measures, life may perfect be.
Seite 165 - Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these, ye did it unto me ' ? Christians are those who have Christ's spirit, as I think, and sacrifice themselves to save others.
Seite 372 - FRIEND, for your epitaphs I'm grieved. Where still so much is said ; One half will never be believed. The other never read.

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