Temple Bar: A London Magazine for Town and Country Readers, Volume 76

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George Augustus Sala, Edmund Yates
Ward and Lock, 1886

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Page 417 - No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine.
Page 129 - When we were parted? oh! could'st thou but know " With what a deep devotedness of woe " I wept thy absence — o'er and o'er again " Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, " And memory, like a drop that, night and day, " Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away.
Page 539 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Page 266 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 132 - There is a gloom in deep love, as in deep water : there is a silence in it which suspends the foot, and the folded arms and the dejected head are the images it reflect*. No voice shakes its surface : the Muses themselves approach it with a tardy and a timid step, and with a low and tremulous and melancholy song.
Page 101 - I have met Curran at Holland House — he beats every body ; — his imagination is beyond human, and his humour (it is difficult to define what is wit) perfect. Then he has fifty faces, and twice as many voices, when he mimics — I never met his equal.
Page 42 - I know you to be the master of, convey to him in the most friendly and unoffensive manner possible, that if France throws down the gauntlet we shall not refuse to pick it up ; and that if she begins a war, she will to a certainty lose her ships, colonies, and commerce before she sees the end of it ; that her army of Algiers will cease to give her anxiety, and that Mehemet Ali will just be chucked into the Nile.
Page 409 - OF all the fairest Cities of the Earth None is so fair as FLORENCE. 'Tis a gem Of purest ray; and what a light broke forth, When it emerged from darkness ! Search within, Without ; all is enchantment ! 'Tis the Past Contending with the Present; and in turn Each has the mastery.
Page 128 - The soul, aspiring, pants its source to mount, As streams meander level with their fount." We take this to be, on the whole, the worst similitude in the world. In the first place, no stream meanders, or can possibly meander, level with its fount. In the next place, if streams did meander level with their founts, no two motions can be less like than that of meandering level and that of mounting upwards.
Page 48 - ... sensible of kindness and attention, exacting nothing, considerate of others and apparently regardless of self, overflowing with affection and kindness of manner and language to all around him, and exerting all his moral and intellectual energies with a spirit and resolution that never flagged till within a few hours of his dissolution, when nature gave way and he sank into a tranquil unconsciousness in which life gently ebbed away. Whatever may have been the error of his life, he closed the scene...

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