Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 161W. Blackwood & Sons, 1897 - Scotland |
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Page 5
... ness . Most of the men , however , had the dull dogged look of driven cattle : an intelligent face you would have sought more success- fully amongst their wives . Thus they reclined and slept , or talked in low subdued voices , while be ...
... ness . Most of the men , however , had the dull dogged look of driven cattle : an intelligent face you would have sought more success- fully amongst their wives . Thus they reclined and slept , or talked in low subdued voices , while be ...
Page 27
ness of this , partly no doubt in reaction from the excesses of Jack Ketchishness , reviewing very often wanders into other excesses or de- fects which are equally far from the golden mean . It is sometimes openly asserted , and perhaps ...
ness of this , partly no doubt in reaction from the excesses of Jack Ketchishness , reviewing very often wanders into other excesses or de- fects which are equally far from the golden mean . It is sometimes openly asserted , and perhaps ...
Page 38
... ness of that long afternoon spent in a hunt for cheap lodgings . We were not accustomed to luxury , and I don't know that we even objected much to honest dirt ; but the darkness of some of those houses , - the dinginess , the squalor ...
... ness of that long afternoon spent in a hunt for cheap lodgings . We were not accustomed to luxury , and I don't know that we even objected much to honest dirt ; but the darkness of some of those houses , - the dinginess , the squalor ...
Page 43
... ness and woe . Poor little boy and girl ! Such moods were rare . As a rule we were content to sip the sweets of life on a lower level . A joke could be wrung from every- thing in those good old days , and the greatest joke of all was ...
... ness and woe . Poor little boy and girl ! Such moods were rare . As a rule we were content to sip the sweets of life on a lower level . A joke could be wrung from every- thing in those good old days , and the greatest joke of all was ...
Page 45
... ness must have been taxed to the utmost . But there was one notable ex- ception to the monkish chroniclers of the fourteenth century . One only , and that not Sir Thomas de la More , whose share in the authorship of ' Mors et Vita Ed ...
... ness must have been taxed to the utmost . But there was one notable ex- ception to the monkish chroniclers of the fourteenth century . One only , and that not Sir Thomas de la More , whose share in the authorship of ' Mors et Vita Ed ...
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army Atterbury believe better British cable called Celtic Celts China CLXI command Coppermine river course Cranleigh Dariel Delhi doubt Durtal duty England English eyes father feeling force Franklin girl Gordon Government hand heart hope horses Imar India interest Ireland Irish Jacobite Kabul Kandahar Khartúm Khromoff King knew ladies land less Lipik live look Lord Beaconsfield Lord Roberts matter means ment mind Mutiny native nature ness never officers once Oria Ossets party passed perhaps political prison Punjab question railway Rakhan river round Russian Saladin schools seemed ships Siberia side soldiers spirit Stewart Súdán sure teachers tell thet thing Thomas Gray thou thought tion told Tomsk took troops turn versts whole woman women words writes young Zobeir
Popular passages
Page 80 - We wither from our youth, we gasp away — Sick — sick; unfound the boon — unslaked the thirst, Though to the last, in verge of our decay, Some phantom lures, such as we sought at first — But all too late, — so are we doubly curst, Love, fame, ambition, avarice — 'tis the same — Each idle, and all ill, and none the worst — For all are meteors with a different name, And Death the sable smoke where vanishes the flame.
Page 269 - Of every hearer; for it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth Whiles we enjoy it, but being lack'd and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours.
Page 365 - Give me my scallop-shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon. My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope's true gage; And thus I'll take my pilgrimage.
Page 351 - It ceased ; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Page 242 - As I parted with each corps in turn its band played ' Auld Lang Syne,' and I have never since heard that memory-stirring air without its bringing before my mind's eye the last view I had of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force. I fancy myself crossing and recrossing the river which winds through the pass ; I hear the martial beat of drums and plaintive music of the pipes ; and I see Riflemen and Gurkhas, Highlanders and Sikhs, guns and horses, camels and mules, with the endless following of an Indian army...
Page 86 - Ireland would be to put upon the Irish people the duty of levying their own taxes and of providing for their own expenditure...
Page 472 - Scotia's noblest speech yon orchestra sublime Whaurto - uplifted like the Just - the tail-rods mark the time. The crank-throws give the double-bass, the feed-pump sobs an' heaves, An' now the main eccentrics start their quarrel on the sheaves: Her time, her own appointed time, the rocking link-head bides, Till - hear that note ? - the rod's return whings glimmerin
Page 128 - The blue waves of Ullin roll in light. The green hills are covered with day. Trees shake their dusky heads in the breeze. Grey torrents pour their noisy streams. Two green hills with aged oaks surround a narrow plain. The blue course of a stream is there. On its banks stood Cairbar of Atha. His spear supports the king; the red eyes of his fear are sad. Cormac rises on his soul with all his ghastly wounds.
Page 455 - And, when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and precious thoughts, That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
Page 506 - Jacob) — the structure commenced in our own land by Horace Walpole, Monk Lewis, Mrs. Radcliffe, and Maturin, but left imperfect and inharmonious, requires, now that the rubbish which choked up its approach is removed, only the hand of the skilful architect to its entire renovation and perfection.