...Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life.' Then comes the sketch of Telemachus, 'to whom he * leaves the sceptre...

...rest." It denounces, not the vanity of working, but the vanity of ceasing work : — " How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use, As though to breathe were life ! " But the restlessness of Ulysses, like the pranks of Lady Clara Vere...

...like a rusty mail In monumental mockery. Shakspeare, ' Troilus and Cressida,' III. iii. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! Tennyson, 'Ulysses.' E. YARDLEY. GEORGE WITHER. (See ante, p. 300.)— With regard to the notice...

...was ever moved, in fact, by the purpose made manifest by Ulysses in Tennyson's lines : How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use. Just as in early life he had a remarkable command of chemistry, so in later life he developed a wonderful...

[ אנו מתנצלים, אך הגישה לתוכן של עמוד זה מוגבלת ]

...through Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains...

...wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on "life Were all too little, and of one to me Little...

...wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains...

...Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever w hen I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on lift Were all too little, and of one to me Ijtlle remains:...

...through Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in use ! As though to breathe were life. Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains...