The Drama, Or, Theatrical Pocket Magazine
Wholly dedicated to the stage, and containing original dramatic biography, essays, criticisms, poetry, reviews ... with occasional notices of the country theatres, the whole forming a complete critical and biographical illustration of the British stage.
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Strona 171 - And all amid them stood the tree of life, High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit Of vegetable gold; and next to life Our death the tree of knowledge grew fast by, Knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill.
Strona 237 - I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions ; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Strona 390 - Shakespeare was inspiration indeed ; he is not so much an imitator as an instrument of Nature ; and it is not so just to say that he speaks from her as that she speaks through him.
Strona 385 - WHEN Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakspeare rose; Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new : Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'd after him in vain.
Strona 81 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Strona 110 - Not what we ail'd, yet something we did ail ; And yet were well, and yet we were not well, And what was our disease we could not tell. Then would we kiss, then sigh, then look. And thus In that first garden of our simpleness We spent our childhood : but when years began To reap the fruit of knowledge, ah, how then Would she with graver looks, with sweet stern brow, Check my presumption and my forwardness ; Yet still would give me flowers, still would me show What she would have me, yet not have me...
Strona 117 - I speak to Time and to Eternity, Of which I grow a portion, not to man. Ye elements ! in which to be resolved I hasten, let my voice be as a spirit Upon you ! Ye blue waves ! which bore my banner, Ye winds ! which...
Strona 328 - The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, And heavily in clouds brings on the day, The great, the important day, big with the fate Of Cato and of Rome.