Ladies' Magazine, Volume 1Putnam & Hunt, 1828 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 81
Page 6
... heard with much sympathy by her own family , and she was driven as much by necessity as inclina- tion , to pour forth her sorrows to her young son . How- ever , it must be confessed , she dwelt quite as pathetically on the loss of her ...
... heard with much sympathy by her own family , and she was driven as much by necessity as inclina- tion , to pour forth her sorrows to her young son . How- ever , it must be confessed , she dwelt quite as pathetically on the loss of her ...
Page 9
... heard his step , her own was demure as a quaker's . Yet it was not that he did not love her sweet tones ; they thrilled every fibre of his heart , and often charmed him " even to tears " -but he did not dare indulge his tender and ...
... heard his step , her own was demure as a quaker's . Yet it was not that he did not love her sweet tones ; they thrilled every fibre of his heart , and often charmed him " even to tears " -but he did not dare indulge his tender and ...
Page 11
... heard one word of the matter . Aunt Judy could not attend strictly to the reading , as she was obliged to keep one eye constantly fixed on the rogue in the corner , while sundry shakes of her head denoted her displeasure at his conduct ...
... heard one word of the matter . Aunt Judy could not attend strictly to the reading , as she was obliged to keep one eye constantly fixed on the rogue in the corner , while sundry shakes of her head denoted her displeasure at his conduct ...
Page 14
... heard them , the look of pity and endearment he al- ways threw upon her , would bring tears to her eyes . It was towards the last of March , and on the evening of a stormy , blustering day , such as frequently occur at the vernal ...
... heard them , the look of pity and endearment he al- ways threw upon her , would bring tears to her eyes . It was towards the last of March , and on the evening of a stormy , blustering day , such as frequently occur at the vernal ...
Page 29
... heard that harp's sweet , pensive thrill ; As if her spirit still hover'd near , To awaken those tones in life so dear . HENRY . THE TOKEN . WE confess we look at this little work with great plea- sure , and as little of that vanity ...
... heard that harp's sweet , pensive thrill ; As if her spirit still hover'd near , To awaken those tones in life so dear . HENRY . THE TOKEN . WE confess we look at this little work with great plea- sure , and as little of that vanity ...
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Common terms and phrases
admiration affection appear aunt aunt Jemima beautiful breathed bright Caroline Anderson Catharine character charm child Connecticut considered countenance dæmon dark daugh daughter dear deep dream duty earth Edward Paine exertion fame fancy father fear feel felt female flowers full blown rose genius girl grace Guizot happiness hath heard heart heaven honor hope Hope Leslie hour husband imagination influence interest James Murray knew labor learned lisping lived look Magazine manner marriage married ment Meulan mind Miss Miss Brooks moral morning mother N. P. Willis nature never o'er Obed passed passion perhaps person pleasure praise reader rich Robert Simonds scenes seemed Silsby smile society soon sorrow soul spirit story suffering sweet talents taste tears tender thee thing thou thought tion truth wife wish woman word writers young ladies youth
Popular passages
Page 411 - O'er Gunga's mimic sea ! I miss thee at the dawning gray, When, on our deck reclined, In careless ease my limbs I lay And woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when by Gunga's stream My twilight steps I guide, But most beneath the lamp's pale beam I miss thee from my side.
Page 328 - O'er other creatures: yet, when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best. All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded : wisdom in discourse with her Loses, discountenanced, and like folly shows...
Page 369 - Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence : Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy ; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being...
Page 459 - WHAT is that, Mother ? The lark, my child ! The morn has but just looked out, and smiled ; When he starts, from his humble, grassy nest, And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, To warble it out, in his Maker's ear : Ever my child, be thy morn's first lays, Tuned,' like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. What is that, Mother...
Page 194 - ... durable, because more natural, and which, according to the different views in which we survey her, is capable either of exalting beyond measure, or diminishing the lustre of her character. This prejudice is founded on the consideration of her sex. When we contemplate...
Page 50 - And ever, against eating cares, Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Page 460 - What is that, mother ? The swan, my love. — He is floating down from his native grove, No loved one now, no nestling nigh ; He is floating down by himself to die ; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings. Live so, my love, that when Death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.
Page 50 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh ! night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong ; Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along From peak to peak the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! And this is in the night.
Page 150 - It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive.