Gentleman's Magazine: And Historical Chronicle, Opseg 176

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F. Jefferies, 1844
 

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Stranica 495 - Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends ; for the hand of God hath touched me.
Stranica 575 - The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field, which indeed is the least of all seeds, but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.
Stranica 566 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch*. When owls do cry, '} \ On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Stranica 573 - In the summer of the year 1797 the author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farm-house between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed, from the effect of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment he was reading the following sentence, or words of the'' same substance, in "Purchas's Pilgrimage...
Stranica 563 - It has been my settled principle that the reading of the ancient books is probably true, and therefore is not to be disturbed for the sake of elegance, perspicuity, or mere improvement of the sense.
Stranica 570 - I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory...
Stranica 575 - It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when it is sown in the earth, is less than all the seeds that be in the earth ; 32 but when it is sown, it groweth up, and becometh greater than all herbs, and shooteth out great branches ; so that the fowls of the air may lodge under the shadow of it.
Stranica 456 - Hushed were his Gertrude's lips ! but still their bland And beautiful expression seemed to melt With love that could not die ! and still his hand She presses to the heart no more that felt. Ah, heart ! where once each fond affection dwelt, And features yet that spoke a soul more fair.
Stranica 33 - Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labors, and the words move slow. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main. Hear how Timotheus...
Stranica 564 - I have attempted to practise, and where any passage appeared inextricably perplexed, have endeavoured to discover how it may be recalled to sense, with least violence. But my first labour is, always to turn the old text on every side, and try if there be any interstice, through which light can find its way; nor would Huetius himself condemn me, as refusing the trouble of research, for the ambition of alteration.

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