The Renfrewshire Magazine


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Página 178 - 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!
Página 199 - 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.
Página 228 - 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.
Página 253 - 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.
Página 151 - 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
Página 176 - 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.
Página 192 - 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,...
Página 151 - 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.
Página 328 - 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...
Página 179 - 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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