Blackwood's Magazine, Volume 33

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W. Blackwood., 1833 - England

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Page 363 - All murder'd : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Page 397 - I am myself indifferent honest ; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me : I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious ; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in : What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven ! We are arrant knaves, all ; believe none of us : Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Page 403 - Must there no more be done ? We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem, and such rest to her, As to peace-parted souls. Laer. Lay her i...
Page 397 - You should not have believed me, for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it.
Page 398 - The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observ'd of all observers, — quite, quite down ! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy : O, woe is me, To have seen what I have seen, see what I see ! Re-enter King and POLONIUS.
Page 158 - Thou'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free The body's delicate; the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else Save what beats there.
Page 157 - Lear. Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Page 402 - There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook.
Page 554 - They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day ; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Page 399 - How should I your true love know From another one ? By his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon.

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