Miscellaneous Writings of the Late Dr. Maginn, Volume 2

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Redfield, 1855

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Page 198 - That light whose smile kindles the universe, That beauty in which all things work and move, That benediction which the eclipsing curse Of birth can quench not, that sustaining Love Which, through the web of being blindly wove By man and beast and earth and air and sea, Burns bright or dim, as each are mirrors of The fire for which all thirst, now beams on me, Consuming the last clouds of cold mortality.
Page 19 - Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, — How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Page 195 - There creeps A clinging, black, contaminating mist About me. . . 'tis substantial, heavy, thick, I cannot pluck it from me, for it glues My fingers and my limbs to one another, And eats into my sinews, and dissolves My flesh to a pollution, poisoning The subtle, pure, and inmost spirit of life!
Page 125 - I have even avoided introducing the Deity, as in Scripture (though Milton does, and not very wisely either) ; but have adopted his angel, as sent to Cain, instead, on purpose to avoid shocking any feelings on the subject, by falling short of, what all uninspired men must fall short in, viz. giving an adequate notion of the effect of the presence of Jehovah. The old Mysteries introduced him liberally enough, and all this is avoided in the new one.
Page 125 - Attacks upon me were to be expected, but I perceive one upon you in the papers, which I confess that I did not expect. How, or in what manner, you can be considered responsible for what / publish, I am at a loss to conceive. " If ' Cain' be ' blasphemous,' Paradise Lost is blasphemous ; and the very words of the Oxford gentleman,
Page 192 - We are not now to defend a publication so well able to defend itself. But the fact is, that the Quarterly finding before it a work at once silly and presumptuous, full of the servile slang that Cockaigne dictates to its servitors, and the vulgar indecorums which that...
Page 120 - My dear ant,") angrily exclaiming, " What, child ! have you been shut up here three hours to call your aunt a pismire ?" From that hour of humiliation I have too often groaned under the endurance of similar penance, and I have learnt from my own sufferings to compassionate those of my dear sisters in affliction. To...
Page 125 - Paradise Lost is blasphemous ; and the very words of the Oxford gentleman, ' Evil, be thou my good,' are from that very poem, from the mouth of Satan, and is there any thing...
Page 312 - Here's, then, to the days gone by — to the memory of my first love, and my first libation of rum over a cigar ! Some young heart is now going the same round as I was then — revelling in delights which he fondly fancies are to last for ever — anticipating joys which never are destined to exist. Light be his heart, buoyant his spirits — I shall not break in on his dreams by the croaking of experience. Farewell again, Cecilia ! I never saw her after that day — in the evening she left Bristol...
Page 219 - The poesy of this young lord belongs to the class which neither gods nor men are said to permit. Indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. His effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they were so much stagnant water.

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