The National Quarterly Review, 5–6. köide

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Pudney & Russell, 1862
 

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Page 124 - ... the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature.
Page 131 - Leave me, O love . . ." Leave me, O love which reachest but to dust; And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust, Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be; Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light, That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
Page 302 - The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of speech shock and disgust men when their own lives and the fate of their wives, their children and their country hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain and all elaborate oratory contemptible.
Page 351 - Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of time, Sarmatia fell — unwept —without a crime! Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe.
Page 128 - Now ye shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By and by we...
Page 275 - If a man were called to fix the period in the history of the world during which the condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus.
Page 120 - I will report no other wonder but this, that though I lived with him, and knew him from a child, yet I never knew him other than a man : with such staidness of mind, lovely and familiar gravity, as carried grace and reverence above greater years. His talk ever of knowledge, and his very play tending to enrich his mind...
Page 135 - All he had loved, and moulded into thought From shape and hue and odour and sweet sound, Lamented Adonais. Morning sought Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound, Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground. Dimmed the aerial eyes that kindle day ; Afar the melancholy Thunder moaned, Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay, And the wild Winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay.
Page 122 - WHAT is truth ?" said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fix a belief, affecting free-will in thinking as well as in acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, yet there remain certain discoursing wits which are of the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the ancients.
Page 299 - O my Jesus, Thou didst me Upon the cross embrace, For me didst bear the nails and spear, And manifold disgrace...

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