Analytical Review: Or History of Literature, Domestic and Foreign, on an Enlarged Plan, Band 28
Containing scientific abstracts of important and interesting works, published in English; a general account of such as are of less consequence, with short characters, notices, or reviews of valuable foreign books; criticisms on new pieces of music and works of art; and the literary intelligence of Europe, etc.
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Seite 583 - Sad case it was, as you may think, For very cold to go to bed, And then for cold not sleep a wink.
Seite 273 - Wouldst softly speak and stroke my head and smile — Could those few pleasant days again appear, Might one wish bring them, would I wish them here? I would not trust my heart : the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.
Seite 273 - Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, Ne'er roughen'd by those cataracts and breaks, That humour interposed too often makes ; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Such honours to thee as my numbers may ; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, Not scorn'd in heaven, though little noticed here.
Seite 439 - THE angel ended, and in Adam's ear So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fix'd to hear...
Seite 419 - The winds roared, and the rains fell. The poor white man, faint and weary, came and sat under our tree. He has no mother to bring him milk; no wife to grind his corn.
Seite 582 - OH ! what's the matter — what's the matter * What is't that ails young Harry Gill ? That evermore his teeth they chatter, Chatter, chatter, chatter still...
Seite 272 - Children not thine have trod my nurs'ry floor; And where the gard'ner Robin, day by day, Drew me to school along the public way, Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapt In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet capt, 'Tis now become a history little known, That once we call'd the past'ral house our own.
Seite 189 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, Such terrible impression made my dream.