Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 125. cilt

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William Blackwood, 1879
 

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Sayfa 472 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think, I am easier to be played on than a pipe...
Sayfa 469 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! Ah, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.
Sayfa 469 - Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on ; and yet, within a month — Let me not think on't. — Frailty, thy name is woman ! A little month! or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she — O God!
Sayfa 578 - Some trust in chariots, and some in horses : but we will remember the name of the LORD our God. . 8 They are brought down and fallen : but we are risen, and stand upright.
Sayfa 470 - Pale as his shirt ; his knees knocking each other ; And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out from hell To speak of horrors, — he comes before me.
Sayfa 174 - To church, where I found that my coming in a perriwigg did not prove so strange as I was afraid it would, for I thought that all the church would presently have cast their eyes all upon me, but I found no such thing.
Sayfa 65 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that...
Sayfa 3 - ... grosser blood, And teach them how to war! — And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,* Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry ! England ! and Saint George ! [Exeunt . Alarum,...
Sayfa 3 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Sayfa 478 - Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp immediately. [Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears] HAMLET: He poisons him i

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