The Edinburgh monthly magazine [afterw.] Blackwood's Edinburgh magazine [afterw.] Blackwood's magazine, Volume 5 (Google eBook)

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Page 414 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Page 297 - Thus Satan talking to his nearest mate With head uplift above the wave, and eyes That sparkling blazed; his other parts besides Prone on the flood, extended long and large, Lay floating many a rood ; in bulk as huge As whom the fables name of monstrous size, Titanian, or Earth-born, that warr'd on Jove ; Briareos or Typhon, whom the den By ancient Tarsus held ; or that seabeast Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean stream...
Page 388 - Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Page 298 - And time and place are lost ; where eldest Night And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise Of endless wars, and by confusion stand...
Page 51 - While their sorrow's at the height, Lose discrimination quite, And their hasty wrath let fall, To appease their frantic gall, On the darling thing whatever Whence they feel it death to sever, Though it be, as they, perforce, Guiltless of the sad divorce. For I must (nor let it grieve thee, Friendliest of plants, that I must) leave thee. For thy sake, Tobacco, I, Would do anything but die, And but seek to extend my days Long enough to sing thy praise.
Page 431 - In one vast squadron they advance! I strove to cry - my lips were dumb. The steeds rush on in plunging pride; But where are they the reins to guide?
Page 436 - He grasp'd the mane with both his hands And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin neck or...
Page 438 - And gallop'd off with all his might As he had done before. Away went Gilpin, and away Went Gilpin's hat and wig ; He lost them sooner than at first, For why ? they were too big. Now...
Page 431 - His first and last career is done! On came the troop - they saw him stoop, They saw me strangely bound along His back with many a bloody thong: They stop, they start, they snuff the air, Gallop a moment here and there, Approach, retire, wheel round and round, Then plunging back with sudden bound, Headed by one black mighty steed, Who...
Page 516 - There is a dangerous silence in that hour, A stillness which leaves room for the full soul To open all itself, without the power Of calling wholly back its self-control; The silver light which, hallowing tree and tower, Sheds beauty and deep softness o'er the whole Breathes also to the heart, and o'er it throws A loving languor, which is not repose.

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