Fraser's Magazine, 53

James Anthony Froude, John Tulloch
J. Fraser, 1856
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Contains the first printing of Sartor resartus, as well as other works by Thomas Carlyle.

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˹ 106 - Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion; and, that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine are) and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
˹ 299 - Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
˹ 101 - Be a god and hold me With a charm! Be a man and fold me With thine arm ! Teach me, only teach, Love! As I ought I will speak thy speech, Love, Think thy thoughtMeet, if thou require it, Both demands, Laying flesh and spirit In thy hands.
˹ 101 - The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin : And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost Is, the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.
˹ 489 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
˹ 105 - The beauty and the wonder and the power, The shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades, Changes, surprises, and God made it all ! For what ? do you feel thankful, ay or no, For this fair town's face, yonder river's line, VOL.
˹ 101 - ALL June I bound the rose in sheaves. Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves And strew them where Pauline may pass. She will not turn aside ? Alas ! Let them lie. Suppose they die ? The chance was they might take her eye.
˹ 361 - On Butler, who can think without just rage, The glory and the scandal of the age ? Fair stood his hopes, when first he came to town, Met everywhere with welcomes of renown.
˹ 409 - Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty : Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
˹ 105 - I drew them, fat and lean: then, folk at church, From good old gossips waiting to confess Their cribs of barrel-droppings, candle-ends, To the breathless fellow at the altar-foot. Fresh from his murder, safe and sitting there With the little children round him in a row Of admiration...