The Monthly Review, Volume 4

Front Cover
Sir Henry John Newbolt, Charles Hanbury-Williams
J. Murray, 1901 - Art
 

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Page 166 - Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?
Page 119 - Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.
Page 125 - I LOVE all beauteous things, I seek and adore them ; God hath no better praise, And man in his hasty days Is honoured for them. I too will something make And joy in the making ; Altho' to-morrow it seem Like the empty words of a dream Remembered on waking.
Page 121 - I have loved flowers that fade, Within whose magic tents Rich hues have marriage made With sweet unmemoried scents A honeymoon delight, — A joy of love at sight, That ages in an hour : — My song be like a flower ! I have loved airs, that die Before their charm is writ Along a liquid sky Trembling to welcome it.
Page 65 - ... occupy, or fortify, or colonize, or assume or exercise any dominion" over any part of Central America...
Page 67 - A body of nobility is also more particularly necessary in our mixed and compounded constitution, in order to .support the rights of both the crown and the people, by forming a barrier to withstand the encroachments of both. It creates and preserves that gradual scale of dignity which proceeds from the peasant to the prince ; rising like a pyramid from a broad foundation, and diminishing to a point as it rises.
Page 159 - ... told them that the people he went with were not such impostors as they were taken for, but that they had a traditional kind of learning among them, and could do wonders by the power of imagination...
Page 105 - We shall march prospering, - not thro' his presence; Songs may inspirit us, - not from his lyre; Deeds will be done, - while he boasts his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire: Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more footpath untrod, One more devil's triumph and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Page 158 - And then they land, and thou art seen no more! — Maidens, who from the distant hamlets come To dance around the Fyfield elm in May...
Page 152 - Where are the passions they essayed, And where the tears they made to flow? Where the wild humours they portrayed For laughing worlds to see and know? Othello's wrath and Juliet's woe? Sir Peter's whims and Timon's gall? And Millamant and Romeo? Into the night go one and all.

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