The Cornhill Magazine

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William Makepeace Thackeray
Smith, Elder., 1898
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Page 15 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 548 - O, that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come ! But it sufficeth, that the day will end, And then the end is known.
Page 489 - THE love I dedicate to your Lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours, what I have to do is yours ; being part in all I have, devoted yours.
Page 145 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Page 18 - Though thy slumber may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep, There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Page 490 - Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought, To march in ranks of better equipage; But since he died, and poets better prove. Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.
Page 19 - Thy godlike crime was to be kind, To render, with thy precepts, less The sum of human wretchedness, And strengthen Man with his own mind : But baffled as thou wert from high, Still in thy patient energy, In the endurance and repulse Of thine impenetrable spirit, Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit : Thou art a symbol and a sign To mortals of their fate and force...
Page 26 - Less wretched now, and one day free ; He, too, who yet had held untired A spirit natural or inspired — He, too, was struck, and day by day Was wither'd on the stalk away.
Page 466 - Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath. Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks. And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Page 306 - You couldn't have it if you did want it," the Queen said. "The rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday — but never jam to-day." "It must come sometimes to 'jam to-day,'

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