The Dublin Review, Volume 51

Front Cover
Nicholas Patrick Wiseman
Tablet Publishing Company, 1862
 

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Page 295 - What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger.
Page 179 - I hoped you had got rid of all this hypocrisy of misery. What have you to do with liberty and necessity? or what more than to hold your tongue about it?
Page 170 - To each his sufferings; all are men, Condemned alike to groan. The tender for another's pain; The unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies? Thought would destroy their paradise. No more; where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Page 469 - ... heralded to me by this means. Wherever they go they make a clean sweep, even ascending to the tops of the highest trees in pursuit of their prey. Their manner of attack is an impetuous leap. Instantly the strong pincers are fastened, and they only let go when the piece gives way.
Page 348 - House resolves itself into a committee of the whole House, in order to consider the present state of the Church Establishment in Ireland, with the view of applying any surplus of the revenues not required for the spiritual care of its members to the general education of all classes of the people, without distinction of religious persuasion.'] 1835] THE IRISH CHURCH QUESTION.
Page 469 - Bats and mice spring round the room in vain. An overwhelming force of ants kills a strong rat in less than a minute, in spite of the most frantic struggles, and in, less than another minute its bones are stripped.
Page 348 - Russell proposed a resolution, "that it is the opinion of this House that no measure upon the subject of tithes in Ireland can lead to a satisfactory and final adjustment which does not embody the principle contained in the foregoing Resolution," — namely, in the resolution agreed to on the previous night.
Page 260 - Sooner or later I too may passively take the print Of the golden age - why not? I have neither hope nor trust; May make my heart as a millstone, set my face as a flint, Cheat and be cheated, and die: who knows? we are ashes and dust.
Page 477 - ... joined awkwardly to the trunk with scarce a vestige of neck, and the great muscular arms, and deep, cavernous breast, give to this waddle an ungainly horror, which adds to his ferocity of appearance. At the same time, the deep-set grey eyes sparkle out with gloomy malignity ; the features are contorted in hideous, wrinkles ; and the slight, sharply-cut lips, drawn up, reveal the long fangs and the powerful jaws, in which a human limb would be crushed as a biscuit.
Page 477 - Fortunately, the gorilla dies as easily as man ; a shot in the breast, if fairly delivered, is sure to bring him down. He falls forward on his face, his long, muscular arms outstretched, and uttering with his last breath a hideous death-cry, half roar, half shriek, which, while it announces to the hunter his safety, yet tingles his ears with a dreadful note of human agony.

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