Selections from the Writings of Lord Macaulay, Volumen1

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Longmans, Green, 1903 - 475 páginas

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Página 369 - While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands. He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene: But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try. Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head, Down as upon a bed.
Página 249 - Their palaces were houses not made with hands; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade away ! On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles and priests, they looked down with contempt: For they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious treasure, and eloquent in a more sublime language, nobles by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand.
Página 460 - Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood; And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, To fight for his own holy name, and Henry of Navarre.
Página 322 - I walked to a neighbouring Town, and sat down upon a Settle in the Street, and fell into a very deep pause about the most fearful state my sin had brought me to ; and after long musing, I lifted up my head...
Página 148 - Parr to suspend his labors in that dark and profound mine from which he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition, a treasure too often buried in the earth, too often paraded with injudicious and inelegant ostentation, but still precious, massive, and splendid. There appeared the voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in secret plighted his faith.
Página 459 - And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land! And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's empurpled flood, And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his blood...
Página 250 - People who saw nothing of the godly but their uncouth visages, and heard nothing from them but their groans and their whining hymns, might laugh at them. But those had little reason to laugh who encountered them in the hall of debate, or in the field of battle.
Página 148 - ... mother of a beautiful race, the Saint Cecilia whose delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the common decay'. There were the members of that brilliant society which quoted, criticised, and exchanged repartees, under the rich peacock-hangings of Mrs.
Página 309 - His poetry acts like an incantation. Its merit lies less in its obvious meaning than in its occult ' power. There would seem, at first sight, to be no more in his words than in other words. But they are words of enchantment ; no sooner are they pronounced than the past is present, and the distant near. New forms of beauty start at once into existence, and all the burial-places of the memory give up their dead.
Página 249 - Thus the Puritan was made up of two different men, the one all self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion, the other proud, calm, inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust before his Maker : but he set his foot on the neck of his king.

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