The Dublin University Magazine: A Literary and Political Journal, Band 62

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W. Curry, jun., and Company, 1863

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Seite 623 - And the devil said unto him, All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them : for that is delivered unto me ; and to whomsoever I will I give it. If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine.
Seite 153 - In billows, leave i' the midst a horrid vale. Then with expanded wings he steers his flight Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air That felt unusual weight, till on dry land He lights, if it were land that ever...
Seite 178 - Great wits are sure to madness near allied; And thin partitions do their bounds divide: Else why should he, with wealth and honour blest, Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?
Seite 357 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Seite 152 - Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento; Hae tibi erunt artes , pacisque imponere morem , Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.
Seite 153 - Looks through the Horizontal misty Air Shorn of his Beams, or from behind the Moon In dim Eclips disastrous twilight sheds On half the Nations, and with fear of change Perplexes Monarchs. Dark'n'd so, yet shon Above them all th...
Seite 518 - But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may be a supply for their want, that their abundance also may be a supply for your want ; that there may be equality : 15 As it is written, He that had gathered much had nothing over; and he that had gathered little had no lack.
Seite 298 - Then ensued a scene of woe, the like of which no eye had seen, no heart conceived, and which no tongue can adequately tell.
Seite 300 - I speak in the spirit of the British law, which makes liberty commensurate with and inseparable from British soil; which proclaims even to the stranger and sojourner, the moment he sets his foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is holy, and consecrated by the genius of universal emancipation.
Seite 157 - At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes, And stole upon the air, that even Silence Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might Deny her nature, and be never more, Still to be so displaced. I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death.

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