The British Essayists: Tatler

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Page 124 - father. Than I to Hercules. Within a month ! Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes, She married—O most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets ! But, break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue ! It is not, nor it cannot come to, good.
Page 153 - veneration for that season. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeih all night long, And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad : The
Page 76 - and sometimes impair'd : He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' th* centre, and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon. N 99. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 26,
Page 99 - discreetest, best. All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded, wisdom in discourse with her Loses discountenanc'd, and, like folly shows. Authority and reason on her wait, As one intended first, not after made Occasionally. And, to consummate all, Greatness of mind, and nobleness, their seat Build in
Page 31 - up with the following speech : Give me another horse—Bind up my wounds ! Have mercy, Jesu—Soft ! I did but dream. Oh ! coward conscience ! how dost thou afflict me ! The lights burn blue ! Is it not dead midnight ? Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh; What do I fear ? myself ! &c.
Page 172 - that describe it. Others apart sat on a hill retir'd, In thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high Of providence, fore-knowledge, will, and fate, Fix'd fate, free-will, fore-knowledge absolute, And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. N-115. TUESDAY, JANUARY 3,
Page 76 - By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude : Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, That in the various bustle of resort She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, Were all too
Page 287 - should the warlike Harry, like himself. Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels, Leash'd in, like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire. Crouch for employments. A conqueror drawn like the god of battle, with
Page 287 - spirit, raging for revenge. With Ate by his side, come hot from Hell, Shall in these confines, with a monarch's voice, Cry havock; and let slip the dogs of war. 2
Page 76 - rupted youth : I do not think my sister so to seek, Or so unprincipled in virtue's book, And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) As that the single want of light and noise

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