The South Devon literary chronicle

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Pàgina 131 - Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime ? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
Pàgina 177 - Before their eyes in sudden -view appear The secrets of the hoary deep, a dark Illimitable ocean without bound, Without dimension; where length, breadth, and highth, And time and place are lost...
Pàgina 131 - Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie...
Pàgina 136 - The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our first garments, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion — Death!
Pàgina 275 - Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind : His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand : His manners were gentle, complying, and bland ; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart...
Pàgina 177 - Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds — Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while, Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith He had to cross.
Pàgina 133 - But a word from Florence, who was always at his side, restored him to himself; and leaning his poor head upon her breast, he told Floy of his dream, and smiled.
Pàgina 229 - For lo ! the sea that fleets about the land, And like a girdle clips her solid waist, Music and measure both doth understand; For his great crystal eye is always cast Up to the moon, and on her fixed fast; And as she danceth in her pallid sphere, So danceth he about the centre here.
Pàgina 234 - ... would assume the likeness of an animated thing, instinct with life and motion ; how soon it would ruffle, as it were, its swelling plumage ; how quickly it would put forth all its beauty and its bravery, collect its scattered elements of strength, and awaken its dormant thunder. Such as is one of these...
Pàgina 136 - Mamma is like you, Floy. I know her by the face ! But tell them that the print upon the stairs at school is not divine enough. The light about the head is shining on me as I go !" The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stTrred in the room.

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