Blackwood's Magazine, Volume 41

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W. Blackwood, 1837
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Page 522 - MAN, that is born of a woman, hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.
Page 443 - But peaceful was the night Wherein the Prince of Light His reign of peace upon the earth began...
Page 443 - No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around ; The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.
Page 522 - So ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye are: for blood it defileth the land: and the land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is shed therein, but by the blood of him that shed it.
Page 443 - How keen the stars, his only thought, — . The air how calm, and cold, and thin, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago ! O strange indifference ! low and high Drowsed over common joys and cares ; The earth was still, but knew (not why The world was listening, unawares. How calm a moment may precede One that shall thrill the world for ever ! To that still moment none would heed Man's doom was linked, no more to sever...
Page 171 - ... got the scissors, snipping at your gown !) Thou pretty opening rose ! (Go to your mother, child, and wipe your nose !) Balmy and breathing music like the South, (He really brings my heart into my mouth !) Fresh as the morn, and brilliant as its star, — (I wish that window had an iron bar !) Bold as the hawk, yet gentle as the, dove, -— (I'll tell you what, my love, I cannot write unless he's sent above !) IV. A SERENADE.
Page 404 - Seasons" does not contain a single new image of external nature; and scarcely presents a familiar one from which it can be .inferred that the eye of the Poet had been steadily fixed upon his object, much less that his feelings had urged him to work upon it in the spirit of genuine imagination.
Page 170 - Untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin — (Good heavens ! the child is swallowing a pin !) Thou little tricksy Puck ! With antic toys so funnily bestuck, Light as the singing bird that wings the air — (The door! the door! he'll tumble down the stair!) Thou darling of thy sire...
Page 170 - With pure heart newly stamped from Nature's mint ! (Where did he learn that squint?) Thou young domestic dove ! (He'll have that jug off with another shove !) Dear nursling of the hymeneal nest ! (Are those torn clothes his best ?) Little epitome of man (He'll climb upon the table ; that's his plan), Touched with the beauteous tints of dawning life! (He's got a knife !) Thou enviable being ! No storms, no clouds, in thy blue sky foreseeing, Play on, play on, My elfin John ! Toss the light ball, bestride...
Page 600 - Charles the First walked and talked half an hour after his head was cut off,

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