Critical and Miscellaneous Essays, Volumen1

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Página 385 - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the golden lilies now, upon them with the lance! A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rush'd, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Página 385 - 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 58 - ... -by the right of an earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand. The very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a mysterious and terrible importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits of light and darkness looked with anxious interest, who had been destined before heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity which should continue when heaven and earth should have passed away.
Página 332 - We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its periodical fits of morality.
Página 41 - The destinies of the human race were staked on the same cast with the freedom of the English people. Then were first proclaimed those mighty principles which have since worked their way into the depths of the American forests, which have roused Greece from the slavery and degradation of two thousand years, and which, from one end of Europe to the other, have kindled an unquenchable fire in the hearts of the oppressed, and loosed the knees of the oppressors with an unwonted fear.
Página 47 - ... is, that he took his little son on his knee and kissed him ! We censure him for having violated the articles of the Petition of Right, after having, for good and valuable consideration, promised to observe them ; and we are informed that he was accustomed to hear prayers at six o'clock in the morning...
Página 386 - Ho ! maidens of Vienna ; ho ! matrons of Lucerne ; Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls.
Página 385 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, " Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, " No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Página 384 - Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
Página 36 - This being necessary was therefore defensible; and he should have secured the consistency of his system by keeping immateriality out of sight, and enticing his reader to drop it from his thoughts.

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