New Monthly Magazine, and Universal Register, 98±Ç

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Thomas Campbell, Samuel Carter Hall, Edward Bulwer Lytton Baron Lytton, Theodore Edward Hook, Thomas Hood, William Harrison Ainsworth, William Ainsworth
E. W. Allen, 1853

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227 ÆäÀÌÁö - Yet I had planted thee a noble vine, wholly a right seed : how then art thou turned into the degenerate plant of a strange vine unto me?
398 ÆäÀÌÁö - I knew not whether from the good cause or the bad; darkness and lights; tempest and human faces; and at last, with the sense that all was lost, female forms, and the features that were worth all the world to me...
333 ÆäÀÌÁö - Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, And life unto the bitter in soul...
34 ÆäÀÌÁö - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt...
308 ÆäÀÌÁö - The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung.
204 ÆäÀÌÁö - They have the pale tint of flowers that blossomed in too retired a shade, — the coolness of a meditative habit, which diffuses itself through the feeling and observation of every sketch. Instead of passion there is sentiment ; and, even in what purport to be pictures of actual life, we have allegory, not always so warmly dressed in its habiliments of flesh and blood as to be taken into the reader's mind without a shiver.
33 ÆäÀÌÁö - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.
204 ÆäÀÌÁö - The book, if you would see anything in it, requires to be read in the clear, brown, twilight atmosphere in which it was written ; if opened in the sunshine, it is apt to look exceedingly like a volume of blank pages.
33 ÆäÀÌÁö - Clipp'd from the lovely head where late it grew) That, while my nostrils draw the vital air, This hand, which won it, shall for ever wear.
396 ÆäÀÌÁö - Ann ! She fixed her eyes upon me earnestly ; and I said to her at length : " So then I have found you at last." I waited, but she answered me not a word. Her face was the same as when I saw it last...

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