The Schoolmaster, and Edinburgh Weekly Magazine, Volumes 1-2

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John Anderson [for John Johnstone], 1832 - Scottish periodicals
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Page 273 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory...
Page 30 - Ho ! maidens of Vienna ; ho ! matrons of Lucerne ; Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls.
Page 290 - Rise like Lions after slumber In unvanquishable number, Shake your chains to earth like dew Which in sleep had fallen on you — Ye are many — they are few.
Page 82 - The community is a fictitious body, composed of the individual persons who are considered as constituting as it were its members. The interest of the community then is, what? — the sum of the interests of the several members who compose it.
Page 298 - Equity is a roguish thing; for law we have a measure, know what to trust to; equity is according to the conscience of him that is Chancellor, and as that is larger or narrower, so is equity. 'Tis all one as if they should make the standard for the measure we call a foot, a Chancellor's foot; what an uncertain measure would this be!
Page 30 - Bartholomew," was passed from man to man ; But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe : Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Page 290 - Tis to work and have such pay As just keeps life from day to day In your limbs, as in a cell For the tyrants...
Page 30 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, "Remember St. Bartholomew,
Page 30 - Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land ! And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand ; And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's...
Page 268 - The time would e'er be o'er, And I on thee should look my last, And thou shouldst smile no more! And still upon that face I look, And think 'twill smile again ; And still the thought I will not brook, That I must look in vain ! But when I speak— thou dost not say What thou ne'er left'st unsaid...

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