...I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all...but every hour is saved From that eternal silence.' All these, it is plain, are not individual thoughts and sentiments. They are what, under the required...

...where through Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished,...to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life.' Then comes the sketch of Telemachus, 'to whom he * leaves the sceptre and the isle,' a gentler ruler,...

...hardest toil were preferable to enforced idleness. " How dull it ia to pause, to make an end, To rest unburnished, not to shine in use, As though to breathe were life." Use is divine in its origin, and in that kingdom, which is in all things obedient to the Divine Will,...

...enough of rest." It denounces, not the vanity of working, but the vanity of ceasing work : — " How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished,...not to shine in use, As though to breathe were life ! " But the restlessness of Ulysses, like the pranks of Lady Clara Vere de Vere, arises from a " vague...

...work ; he was ever moved, in fact, by the purpose made manifest by Ulysses in Tennyson's lines : How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use. Just as in early life he had a remarkable command of chemistry, so in later life he developed a wonderful...

...fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery. Shakspeare, ' Troilus and Cressida,' III. iii. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! Tennyson, 'Ulysses.' E. YARDLEY. GEORGE WITHER. (See ante, p. 300.)— With regard to the notice...

...fashion, like a rusty mail in monumental mockery. Shakspeare, ' Troilus and Cressida,' III. iii. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished. Dot to shine in use ! Tennyson, 'Ulysses.' E. YARDLEY. QEOBGE WITHER. (See ante, p. 300.) — With...

...where tbrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever w hen I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished,...use! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on lift Were all too little, and of one to me Ijtlle remains: but every hour is saved From tliat eternal...

...another day." Which, Lady Faulconer was not in the least unwilling to do. CHAPTER IV. How dull it were to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use. TENNYSON. THE next day was that of the great feast at Armidale. All of us, that is to say, the younger...

...move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, j To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life . Were all...saved ' From that eternal silence, something more, A briuger of new things ; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray...