The London Quarterly Review, Volum 28

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William Lonsdale Watkinson, William Theophilus Davison
J.A. Sharp, 1867
 

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Side 129 - We are not of Alice, nor of thee, nor are we children at all. The children of Alice call Bartrum father. We are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been, and must wait upon the tedious shores of Lethe millions of ages before we have existence, and a name...
Side 34 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations ; — all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set, where were they ? And where are they, and where art thou, My country?
Side 129 - Then I told how for seven long years, in hope sometimes, sometimes in despair, yet persisting ever, I courted the fair Alice W n ; and, as much as children could understand, I explained to them what coyness, and difficulty, and denial meant in maidens — when suddenly, turning to Alice, the soul of the first Alice looked out at her eyes with such a reality of re-presentment, that I became in doubt which of them stood there before me, or whose that bright hair was...
Side 129 - Certain it is that the whole story of the children and their cruel uncle was to be seen fairly carved out in...
Side 376 - A messenger of grace to guilty men. Behold the picture ! — Is it like ? — Like whom ? The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again : pronounce a text, Cry, hem ! and, reading -what they never wrote Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene.
Side 210 - Wherefore it will become you to run together according to the will of your bishop, as also ye do. For your famous presbytery (worthy of God) is fitted as exactly to the bishop as the strings are to the harp.
Side 365 - Nathanael, and saith unto him, We have found him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.
Side 164 - And in sweet madness robbed it of itself; But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never heard till now.
Side 343 - In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world. There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe, And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law.
Side 129 - I missed his crossness, and wished him to be alive again, to be quarrelling*' with him, (for we quarrelled sometimes,) rather than not have him again, and was as uneasy without him, as he their poor uncle must have been when the doctor took off his limb.

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