Blackwood's Magazine, Band 62

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W. Blackwood., 1847

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Seite 389 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Piper, pipe that song again;
Seite 389 - Piper, sit thee down and write In a book that all may read." So he vanished from my sight; And I plucked a hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.
Seite 152 - Through the high wood echoing shrill. Sometime walking, not unseen, By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great sun begins his state...
Seite 132 - ... presuming to measure how much or how little of historical matter these legends may contain. If the reader blame me for not assisting him to determine this— if he ask me why I do not undraw the curtain and disclose the picture — I reply in the words of the painter Zeuxis, when the same question was addressed to him, on exhibiting his masterpiece of imitative art :
Seite 124 - I am confident that the three right honorable gentlemen opposite, the First Lord of the Treasury, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and the late President of the Board of Trade, will all with one voice answer "No." And why not? "Because," say they, "it will injure the revenue.
Seite 544 - All government, indeed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue, and every prudent act, is founded on compromise and barter. We balance inconveniences, we give and take, we remit some rights that we may enjoy others, and we choose rather to be happy citizens than subtle disputants.
Seite 138 - Deiphobus in the under-world ; if we are asked whether there was not really some such historical Trojan war as this, our answer must be, that as the possibility of it cannot be denied, so neither can the reality of it be affirmed.
Seite 154 - A noble race ! but they are gone, With their old forests wide and deep, And we have built our homes upon Fields where their generations sleep. Their fountains slake our thirst at noon, Upon their fields our harvest waves, Our lovers woo beneath their moon — Then let us spare, at least, their graves ! MIDSUMMER.
Seite 407 - They are standing outside with the canopy which is to be borne above your Majesty in the procession!" announced the Head Master of the Ceremonies. "Well, I am ready,
Seite 250 - To what then, it may be asked, does this statement amount ? Merely to this, that the mind is so formed that certain impressions produced on our organs of sense by external objects, are followed by correspondent sensations, and that these sensations (which have no more resemblance to the qualities of matter than the words of a...

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