The Monthly Review, Or, Literary Journal, Band 45

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R. Griffiths, 1772
 

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Seite 94 - Or may I crave a lodging here Without offence or wrong ? " " My lord," he said, " is not at home, To hear a minstrel's song ; And, should I lend thee lodging here, My life would not be long.
Seite 94 - Cheer up, my son ; perchance,' (he said) ' Some tidings I may bear : For oft when human hopes have fail'd, Then heavenly comfort's near. " ' Behind yon hills so steep and high, Down in a lowly glen, There stands a castle fair and strong, Far from th
Seite 170 - As he was a better soldier than a statesman, so 'what he gained in the camp he usually lost in the city ; and though adored when abroad, was often affronted and mortified at home, till the imprudent...
Seite 96 - Wert thou thyself that hapless youth ? Ah ! cruel fate ! they said. The hermit wept, and so did they: They sigh'd ; he hung his head. 0 blind and jealous rage, he cried, What evils from thee flow ? The hermit paus'd; they silent mourn'd: He wept, and they were woe.
Seite 93 - Most like a palmer poor, To halls and castles wanders round, And begs from door to door. Sometimes a minstrel's garb he wears, With pipes so sweet and shrill ; And wends to every tower and town, O'er every dale and hill.
Seite 96 - be comforted, And live to think on me; May we in heaven that union prove, Which here was not to be. Bertram...
Seite 168 - Africa ; and by his victories had almost doubled the extent, as well as the revenues, of the Roman dominion ; for, as he declared to the people on his return from the Mithridatic war, " he had found the lesser Asia the boundary, but left it the middle of their empire.
Seite 94 - Far from th' abode of men. As late I chanc'd to crave an alms About this evening hour, Me-thought I heard a Lady's voice Lamenting in the tower. And when I...
Seite 95 - The stranger turn'd in sudden rage, And at Sir Bertram flew. With mortal hate their vigorous arms Gave many a vengeful blow ; But Bertram's stronger hand prevail'd, And laid the stranger low. " Die, traitor, die !" — A deadly thrust Attends each furious word. Ah ! then fair Isabel knew his voice, And rush'd beneath his sword. " O stop," she cried, " O stop thy arm ! Thou dost thy brother slay!
Seite 357 - Tis therefore a part of this Prophecy, that it should not be understood before the last age of the world ; and therefore it makes for the credit of the Prophecy, that it is not yet understood.

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