The Renfrewshire Magazine

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1847
 

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第 178 頁 - Two sudden blows with a ragged stick And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife — And then the deed was done: There was nothing ly,ing at my foot, But lifeless flesh and bone!
第 199 頁 - Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings.
第 228 頁 - Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, — such was the process: And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
第 253 頁 - HAPPY the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire ; Whose trees in summer yield him shade, In winter fire.
第 151 頁 - The whole world was not half so wide To Alexander, when he cry'd Because he had but one to subdue, As was a paltry narrow tub to Diogenes ; who is not said (For aught that ever I could read) To whine, put finger i' th' eye, and sob, Because h
第 176 頁 - Giant of air we bid thee hail! — How his gray skirts toss in the whirling gale; How his huge and writhing arms are bent To clasp the zone of the firmament, And fold at length, in their dark embrace, From mountain to mountain the visible space.
第 192 頁 - Mine own death's in this clenched hand ! I know the noble trust ; These limbs must rot on yonder strand — these lips must lick its dust : But shall this dusky standard quail in the red slaughter day; Or shall this heart its purpose fail — this arm forget to slay? I trample down such idle doubt ; Harald's high blood hath sprung From sires whose hands in martial bout have ne'er belied their tongue ; Nor keener from their castle rock rush eagles on their prey, Than, panting for the battle-shock,...
第 151 頁 - Her feet beneath her petticoat Like little mice stole in and out, As if they feared the light: But, oh ! she dances such a way— No sun upon an Easter day Is half so fine a sight.
第 328 頁 - O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon't; A brother's murder! Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will: My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's...
第 179 頁 - Well ! • — be the graceless lineaments confest ! I do enjoy this bounteous beauteous earth ; And dote upon a jest " Within the limits of becoming mirth...

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