Modern Statesmen, Or Sketches from the Strangers' Gallery of the House of Commons

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William Tweedie, 337, Strand, 1861 - 300 стор.

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Сторінка 89 - All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence; ripen, fall and cease: Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.
Сторінка 188 - Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin, That never has known the Barber's shear All your wish is woman to win, This is the way that boys begin, — Wait till you come to Forty Year.
Сторінка 65 - Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
Сторінка 288 - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Сторінка 243 - It was impossible that he could have marked them without emotion : the flower of that great party which had been so proud to follow one who had been so proud to lead them. They were men to gain whose hearts and the hearts of their fathers had been the aim and exultation of his life. They had extended to him an unlimited confidence and an admiration without stint. They had...
Сторінка 18 - Life is a Jest, and all Things show it; I thought so once, but now I know it.
Сторінка 162 - Dulness o'er all possess'd her ancient right, Daughter of Chaos and eternal Night : Fate in their dotage this fair idiot gave, Gross as her sire, and as her mother grave, Laborious, heavy, busy, bold, and blind, She ruled, in native anarchy, the mind.
Сторінка 7 - What is it to me," he said on another occasion, "who is made a judge or who is a bishop? It is my business to make kings and emperors, and to maintain the balance of Europe.
Сторінка 73 - There was something very remarkable in his countenance — the commandments were written on his face, and I have often told him there was not a crime he might not commit with impunity, as no judge or jury who saw him, would give the smallest degree of credit to any evidence against him: there was in his look a calm settled love of all that was honourable and good — an air of wisdom and of sweetness; you saw at once that he was a great man, whom nature had intended for a leader of human beings;...
Сторінка 153 - But now the whole ROUND TABLE is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world; And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.

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