The Eton miscellany, by Bartholomew Bouverie, Volume 1, Issues 1-10 |
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Page 35
... When those green trees in rapture fling Their odours to the breeze of Spring , Forget not thou the lonely tomb , Which wakes not with returning bloom , And drop a tear upon the wreath You weave for him who sleeps beneath .
... When those green trees in rapture fling Their odours to the breeze of Spring , Forget not thou the lonely tomb , Which wakes not with returning bloom , And drop a tear upon the wreath You weave for him who sleeps beneath .
Page 36
The lady rose - no tears would flow ; The warm blood gush'd across her brow , E'en as she gather'd strength ; Convuls'd in agony , yet still She bow'd her torture to her will , And calmly spoke at length : While the red flush , which ...
The lady rose - no tears would flow ; The warm blood gush'd across her brow , E'en as she gather'd strength ; Convuls'd in agony , yet still She bow'd her torture to her will , And calmly spoke at length : While the red flush , which ...
Page 37
It was not , love , to see thy tears I left the warrior throng ; It was not , love , from selfish fears That I disturb'd ... All that I ask is Clara's tear To deck her Roland's early bier ; I may not hope to quit the field , Unless NO .
It was not , love , to see thy tears I left the warrior throng ; It was not , love , from selfish fears That I disturb'd ... All that I ask is Clara's tear To deck her Roland's early bier ; I may not hope to quit the field , Unless NO .
Page 48
Or doom my melancholy ghost To join the dark Tartarean host , With many a luckless author more To wander on the Stygian shore , While housemaids tear my sacred strains To light their fires , and scrub their stains ?
Or doom my melancholy ghost To join the dark Tartarean host , With many a luckless author more To wander on the Stygian shore , While housemaids tear my sacred strains To light their fires , and scrub their stains ?
Page 74
The dream soon fled , thy marriage broke The visionary spell ; No tear I shed , no word I spoke , My secret grief to tell . I hate the wretch who set the seal Of death upon thy brow ; I hate the wretch who could not feel The tears he ...
The dream soon fled , thy marriage broke The visionary spell ; No tear I shed , no word I spoke , My secret grief to tell . I hate the wretch who set the seal Of death upon thy brow ; I hate the wretch who could not feel The tears he ...
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able admiration appeared bear beauty believe better blood Bouverie bright brow cause character consider course Critic dark dead dear death delight doubt effect equally Eton fair fall fate father fear feel genius give glory grave hand hath head hear heard heart honour hope hour humble idea interest learning least leave less light live look Lord mean meet merit mind Miscellany nature never night Number o'er object once opinion perhaps person pleasure present readers received remain rest rise scene seems seen sense short smile soon soul sound spirit sure tear tell thee thing thou thought true voice wave wild wish write young youthful
Popular passages
Page 64 - tis most certain, Iras. Saucy lictors Will catch at us, like strumpets ; and scald rhymers Ballad us out o' tune : the quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels : Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I
Page 189 - Alas ! they had been friends in youth ; But whispering tongues can poison truth ; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Page 43 - It may be observed, that in many of his plays the latter part is evidently neglected. When he found himself near the end of his work, and in view of his reward, he shortened the labour to snatch the profit. He therefore remits his efforts where he should most vigorously exert them, and his catastrophe is improbably produced or imperfectly represented...
Page 146 - For Witherington needs must I wail As one in doleful dumps ; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps.
Page 189 - And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain. And thus it chanced, as I divine, With Roland and Sir Leoline. Each spake words of high disdain And insult to his heart's best brother: They parted - ne'er to meet again!
Page 126 - t be possible — of blood : Beg Heaven to cleanse the leprosy of lust That rots thy soul ; acknowledge what thou art, A wretch, a worm, a nothing ; weep, sigh, pray Three times a day, and three times every night ; For seven days...
Page 125 - No, father; in your eyes I see the change Of pity and compassion; from your age, As from a sacred oracle, distils The life of counsel: tell me, holy man, What cure shall give me ease in these extremes ? Friar.
Page 188 - But yester-night I prayed aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me: A lurid light, a trampling throng, Sense of intolerable wrong, And whom I scorned, those only strong!
Page 104 - Every quarter of the city was illuminated ; the great temple shone with such peculiar splendour, that the Spaniards could plainly see the people in motion, and the priests busy in hastening the preparations for the death of the prisoners.
Page 157 - tis but a sound ; a name of air ; A minute's storm ; or not so much : to tumble From bed to bed, be massacred alive By some physicians for a month or two, In hope of freedom from a fever's torments, Might stagger manhood ; here, the pain is past 1 [Half a page omitted.] * [Two lines omitted.] Ere sensibly 'tis felt.
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Eton miscellany, by Bartholomew Bouverie, Volume 1, Issues 1-10 The Eton miscellany, by Bartholomew Bouverie, William Ewart Gladstone |
| Author | Eton miscellany |
| Editor | William Ewart Gladstone |
| Published | 1827 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 20 Oct 2006 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |