Blackwood's Magazine, 77. kötet

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W. Blackwood, 1855
 

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37. oldal - ... to do my duty in that state of life, unto which it shall please God to call me.
37. oldal - My duty towards my neighbour is, to love him as myself, and to do to all men as I would they should do unto me...
227. oldal - ... keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope" — we have presumed to court the assistance of the friends of the drama to strengthen our infant institution.
254. oldal - His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain ; The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast ; The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow'd...
214. oldal - The village communities are little republics, having nearly everything that they want within themselves, and almost independent of any foreign relations. They seem to last where nothing else lasts. Dynasty after dynasty tumbles down : revolution succeeds to revolution; Hindu, Pathan, Moghul, Mahratta, Sikh, English are masters in turn ; but the village communities remain the same...
109. oldal - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
316. oldal - I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly ; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. — O, that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy, revel, pleasure, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! lago.
214. oldal - English, are all masters in turn, but the village communities remain the same. In times of trouble they arm and fortify themselves : a hostile army passes through the country : the village communities collect their cattle within their walls and let the enemy pass unprovoked.
315. oldal - Then to the well-trod stage anon If Jonson's learned sock be on, Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warble his native wood-notes wild.
263. oldal - OLD as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet, Which once inflam'd my soul, and still inspires my wit.

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