Blackwood's Magazine, Volume 8W. Blackwood., 1821 - England |
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Page 8
... O'er which the laden pinnance gently glides ; The living waters sparkle round its sides , As if instinct with spirit , and awake ; In crimson light the peak of Benvenue Is mantled o'er ; the wooded Trosachs frown , And throw , with ...
... O'er which the laden pinnance gently glides ; The living waters sparkle round its sides , As if instinct with spirit , and awake ; In crimson light the peak of Benvenue Is mantled o'er ; the wooded Trosachs frown , And throw , with ...
Page 15
... o'er young to be the heed of a family . Howsomever , the Lord's will maun be done , and if there is to be a match , she'll no have to fight for gentility with a straitent circumstance . As for Andrew , I wish he was weel settlt , and we ...
... o'er young to be the heed of a family . Howsomever , the Lord's will maun be done , and if there is to be a match , she'll no have to fight for gentility with a straitent circumstance . As for Andrew , I wish he was weel settlt , and we ...
Page 21
... o'er her cheek of beauty rush'd a blaze , Her bosom heaved above its silken bound , As if the soul had felt some sudden wound . He looked again ; the cheek was deadly pale ; The bosom sank with one long sigh profound ; Yet still one ...
... o'er her cheek of beauty rush'd a blaze , Her bosom heaved above its silken bound , As if the soul had felt some sudden wound . He looked again ; the cheek was deadly pale ; The bosom sank with one long sigh profound ; Yet still one ...
Page 22
... o'er the Angel came ; The voice rose sweet and solemn as a spell , She bowed her face to Earth , and o'er it dropp'd her veil . Beauty , what art thou , that thy slightest gaze Can make the spirit from its centre roll , Its whole long ...
... o'er the Angel came ; The voice rose sweet and solemn as a spell , She bowed her face to Earth , and o'er it dropp'd her veil . Beauty , what art thou , that thy slightest gaze Can make the spirit from its centre roll , Its whole long ...
Page 24
... o'er thee swim , Gloomy and fathomless ; thy tale is told , Where is thy horn of battle ? that but blown Brought every chief of Afric from his throne ; Brought every spear of Afric from the wall ; Till all its tribes sat mounted on the ...
... o'er thee swim , Gloomy and fathomless ; thy tale is told , Where is thy horn of battle ? that but blown Brought every chief of Afric from his throne ; Brought every spear of Afric from the wall ; Till all its tribes sat mounted on the ...
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