Thaumaturgia, Or, Elucidations of the Marvellous

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E. Churton, 1835 - Magicians (Illusionists) - 362 pages

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Page 107 - ... we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon and the stars : as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, thieves and treachers, by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on...
Page 159 - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid. Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut , Made by the joiner squirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love: On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers , who straight dream on fees : O'er ladies...
Page 107 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune — often the surfeit of our own behaviour — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon and the stars...
Page 162 - Which reason, joining or disjoining, frames All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion; then retires Into her private cell. When nature rests Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes To imitate her; but misjoining shapes, Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams; 111 matching words and deeds long past or late.
Page 160 - Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep: Then dreams he of another benefice! Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes; And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, And sleeps again.
Page 170 - Or, one dream pass'd, we slide into a new ; So close they follow, such wild order keep, We think ourselves awake, and are asleep ; So softly death succeeded life in her, She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.
Page 161 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Page 145 - But with more lucky hit than those That use to make the stars depose, Like Knights o
Page 307 - Now the sojourning of the children of Israel, who dwelt in Egypt, was four hundred and thirty years. And it came to pass at the end of the four hundred and thirty years...
Page 159 - She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...

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