The Month A Catholic Magazine and review VOL.XLVII January-April,1883

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Side 562 - Yet must I not give nature all; thy art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part ; For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion : and, that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
Side 270 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks: methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Side 415 - This was the noblest Roman of them all; All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, 'This was a man!
Side 520 - Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
Side 541 - ... we will that all bishops and preachers shall instruct and teach our people, by us committed to their spiritual charge...
Side 557 - The 10 difference between genuine poetry and the poetry of Dryden, Pope, and all their school, is briefly this: their poetry is conceived and composed in their wits, genuine poetry is conceived and composed in the soul.
Side 429 - Here I sit and read and write," he says again, "with very little system, and as far as regards composition, with the most fragmentary result; paragraphs incompressible, each sentence an infinitely repellent particle.
Side 109 - Of those cold names and bitter pangs, That shortly I am like to find : But yet, alas! full little I Do think hereon, that I must die. I often look upon a face Most ugly, grisly, bare and thin ; I often view the hollow place, Where eyes and nose had sometime been : I see the bones across that lie, Yet little think that I must die.
Side 556 - God, that a man cannot find out the work that is done under the sun: because though a man labour to seek it out, yet he shall not find it; yea farther; though a wise man think to know it, yet shall he not be able to find it.
Side 107 - Even on the brink I hear him sing; If so I meditate alone, He will be partner of my moan; If so I mourn, he weeps with me, And where I am there will he be. Whenas I talk of Rosalind, The god from coyness waxeth kind, And seems in self-same flames to fry, Because he loves as well as I. Sweet Rosalind, for pity rue ! For why than Love I am more true. He, if he speed, will quickly fly, But in thy love I live and die.

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