The Phrenological Journal and Miscellany, Volume 3

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John Anderson, 1826

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Página 82 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain, But with the motion of all elements Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices. It adds a precious seeing to the eye: A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind. A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped. Love's feeling is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails.
Página 536 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise. In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Página 525 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Página 501 - A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at...
Página 82 - Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And, when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Página 275 - I would be understood to mean that notice which the mind takes of its own operations, and the manner of them; by reason whereof there come to be ideas of these operations in the understanding-.
Página 526 - To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him as he lay along Under an oak whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, Did come to languish...
Página 89 - Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, And fondly broods with miser care : Time but the impression deeper makes, As streams their channels deeper wear.
Página 89 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and locked embrace Our parting was fu...
Página 154 - When he makes his jokes, you applaud the accuracy of his memory, and 'tis only when he states his facts that you admire the flights of his imagination.

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