Blackwood's Magazine, 第 58 卷

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W. Blackwood., 1845
 

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第 251 頁 - See mystery to mathematics fly. In vain: they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die. Religion, blushing, veils her sacred fires; And, unawares, morality expires. Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine, Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine. Lo ! thy dread empire, Chaos ! is restor'd, Light dies before thy uncreating word. Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.
第 254 頁 - For thee we dim the eyes, and stuff the head With all such reading as was never read : For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it, And write. about it, goddess, and about it : So spins the silk-worm small its slender store, And labours till it clouds itself all o'er.
第 308 頁 - I once before took leave to remind your Lordships — which was unnecessary, but there are many whom it may be needful to remind — that an advocate, by the sacred duty which he owes his client, knows, in the discharge of that office, but one person in the world, that client and none other.
第 368 頁 - But thou in clumsy verse, unlickt, unpointed, Hast shamefully defied the Lord's anointed. I will not rake the dunghill of thy crimes, For who would read thy life that reads thy rhymes ? But of King David's foes, be this the doom, May all be like the young man Absalom ; And, for my foes, may this their blessing be, To talk like Doeg, and to write like thee...
第 367 頁 - Heaven made him poor (with reverence speaking), He never was a poet of God's making; The midwife laid her hand on his thick skull, With this prophetic blessing — Be thou dull; Drink, swear, and roar, forbear no lewd delight Fit for thy bulk — do anything but write: Thou art of lasting make, like thoughtless men, A strong nativity — but for the pen!
第 233 頁 - The sire then shook the honours of his head, And from his brows damps of oblivion shed Full on the filial dulness...
第 243 頁 - HIGH on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shone Henley's gilt tub, or Fleckno's Irish throne...
第 366 頁 - Doeg, though without knowing how or why, Made still a blundering kind of melody ; Spurred boldly on, and dashed through thick and thin. Through sense and nonsense, never out nor in...
第 233 頁 - My son, advance Still in new impudence, new ignorance. Success let others teach, learn thou from me Pangs without birth, and fruitless industry. Let virtuosos in five years be writ; Yet not one thought accuse thy toil of wit.
第 233 頁 - Nay let thy men of wit too be the same, All full of thee, and differing but in name; But let no alien Sedley interpose To lard with wit thy hungry Epsom prose.

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