The Quarterly Review, Volume 125John Murray, 1868 |
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Common terms and phrases
actor adage Æsop ancient appears Archbishop beauty called carried Catholic century character charge Church Cistercian Coleridge companies Court Cranmer cut-work deer doubt Elliot England English epic epic poetry established fact fallow deer fares favour France French Garrick geological give Gladstone Gladstone's gneiss Government Greek gunpowder hand Henry Homer Horace Walpole Iliad India interest Ireland Irish King lace Lady lake land less letters living London Lord manufacture Marco Marco Polo ment miles Minister nature never Odyssey original parks Parliament party passengers passion Pauthier poems poet Polo present Protestant proverb question railway red deer Reformation remains remarkable rocks Roderick Murchison Roman Roman Catholic ruff says Silurian stag story things tion town traces traffic trains travelling Vale of York whole words writes Yorkshire
Popular passages
Page 167 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished! Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes. With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.
Page 137 - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
Page 178 - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 89 - I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Page 515 - I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north ; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife " Fie upon this quiet life ! I want work.
Page 103 - Yet, Freedom ! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind; Thy trumpet voice, though broken now and dying, The loudest still the tempest leaves behind; Thy tree hath lost its blossoms, and the rind...
Page 233 - Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him.
Page 87 - The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Page 82 - And only thro' the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high wold, And on these dews that drench the furze, And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and still light on yon great plain That sweeps with all its autumn bowers, And crowded farms and lessening towers, To mingle with the bounding main...
Page 88 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower.