Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 88

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W. Blackwood, 1860
 

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Page 349 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which, with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Page 87 - ... (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days : But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin-spun life. But not the praise...
Page 578 - Of aspect more sublime: that blessed mood In which the burthen of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Of all this unintelligible world, Is lightened; that serene and blessed mood, In which the affections gently lead us on, Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul...
Page 354 - Pluck up thy spirit, man, and be not afraid to do thine office. My neck is very short. Take heed therefore that thou strike not awry for saving of thine honesty.
Page 579 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, — How oft, in spirit have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! thou wanderer thro...
Page 474 - A little neglect may breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and for want of a horse the rider was lost,' being overtaken and slain by the enemy ; all for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.
Page 575 - I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Page 87 - Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble minds) To scorn delights and live laborious days...
Page 97 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Page 100 - This night shall be born Our heavenly king. "He neither shall be born In housen nor in hall, Nor in the place of Paradise, But in an ox's stall. "He neither shall be clothed In purple nor in pall, But all in fair linen, As were babies all. "He neither shall be rocked In silver nor in gold, But in a wooden cradle, That rocks on the mould. "He neither shall be christened In white wine nor red, But with fair spring water, With which we were christened.

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