The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 4

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A. Constable, 1804

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Page 161 - ASK ME No MORE ASK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty's orient deep These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair.
Page 273 - All the bees in the neighbourhood resort to a bed of mignonette opposite to the window, and pay me for the honey they get out of it by a hum, which, though rather monotonous, is as agreeable to my ear as the whistling of my linnets.
Page 277 - The auburn nut that held thee, swallowing down Thy yet close-folded latitude of boughs And all thine embryo vastness at a gulp.
Page 272 - I could spend whole days and moonlight nights in feeding upon a lovely prospect ! My eyes drink the rivers as they flow. If every human being upon earth could think for one quarter of an hour as I have done for many years, there might perhaps be many miserable men among them, but not an unawakened one could be found from the arctic to the antarctic circle.
Page 272 - ... now out, with a deal of state, in a figure of eight, without pipe or string, or any such thing; and now I have writ, in a rhyming fit, what will make you dance, and as you advance, will keep you still, though against your will, dancing away...
Page 374 - And this constitutes true politeness. It is a perpetual attention, (by habit it grows easy and natural to us), to the little wants of those we are with, by which we either prevent, or remove them. Bowing, ceremonious, formal compliments, stiff civilities, will never be politeness : that must be easy, natural, unstudied, manly, noble.
Page 210 - To cheer our gloomy Sky How shall we celebrate the day, When God appeared in mortal clay, The mark of worldly scorn ; When the Archangel's heavenly Lays, Attempted the Redeemer's Praise And hail'd Salvation's Morn ! A Humble Form the Godhead wore, The Pains of Poverty he bore, To gaudy Pomp unknown : Tho' in a human walk he trod Still was the Man Almighty God In Glory all his own.
Page 277 - Time made thee what thou wast, king of the woods ; And time hath made thee what thou art — a cave For owls to roost in.
Page 374 - I believe it is best to be known by description; definition not being able to comprise it. I would however venture to call it, benevolence in trifles, or the preference of others to ourselves in little daily, hourly, occurrences in the commerce of life.
Page 375 - As to your manner of behaving towards these unhappy young gentlemen you describe, let it be manly and easy; decline their parties with civility ; retort their raillery with raillery, always tempered with good breeding: if they banter your regularity, order, decency, and love of study, banter in return their neglect of them; and venture to own frankly, that you came to Cambridge to learn what you can, not to follow what they are pleased to call pleasure.

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