Edinburgh Essays

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Black, 1857 - English essays - 350 pages

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Page 137 - These are spots in your feasts of charity, when they feast with you, feeding themselves without fear: clouds they are without water, carried about of winds; trees whose fruit withereth, without fruit, twice dead, plucked up by the roots; Raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame; wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever.
Page 16 - The Greek Testament: with a critically revised Text; a Digest of Various Readings; Marginal References to verbal and Idiomatic Usage; Prolegomena; and a Critical and Exegetical Commentary. For the Use of Theological Students and Ministers, By HENRY ALFORD, DD, Dean of Canterbury. Vol. I., containing the Four Gospels.
Page 99 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.
Page 237 - And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, And safely swam them thro' the stream. He turned him on the other side, And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he — ' If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me...
Page 168 - I am the eye with which the Universe Beholds itself and knows itself divine; All harmony of instrument or verse, All prophecy, all medicine are mine, All light of art or nature; — to my song, Victory and praise in their own right belong.
Page 140 - With the fervor of thy lute: Well may the stars be mute! Yes, Heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely — flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours. If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky.
Page 215 - I'll make a garland of thy hair, Shall bind my heart for evermair, Until the day I die. O that I were where Helen lies ! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, 'Haste and come to me!
Page 235 - Is Keeper here on the Scottish side? "And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, Withouten either dread or fear ? And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch Can back a steed, or shake a spear?
Page 235 - He has call'd him forty Marchmen bauld. I trow they were of his ain name, Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, call'd The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same.
Page 111 - Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? By the mass and 'tis like a camel, indeed. Methinks it is like a weasel. It is backed like a weasel. Or like a whale? Very like a whale.

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