Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incardine,
Making the green one red.
Blood hath been shed ere now i' the olden time,
Ere humane statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.
The great King of kings
Hath in the table of his law commanded
That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then,
Spurn at his edict and fulfill a man's?
Richard III. Act I. Sc. 4. L. 200.
E un incidente del mestiere.
It is one of the incidents of the profession.
)
| topic = Music | page = 535
}}
Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,—
My brother man, Beware!
With that deep voice which from the skies
Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice.
God's angel, cries, Forbear!
Whittier—Human Sacrifice. Pt. VII.
One to destroy is murder by the law,
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe;
To murder thousands takes a specious name,
War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame.
Young—Love of Fame. Satire VII. L. 55.
| seealso = (See also {{sc|Porteus)
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Killing no murder.
Title of a tract in Harleian Miscellany, ascribed to Col. Silas Titus, recommending the murder of Cromwell.
MUSIC
Music religious heat inspires,
It wakes the soul, and lifts it high,
And wings it with sublime desires,
And fits it to bespeak the Deity.
| author = Addison
| work = A Song for St. Cecilia's Day. St. 4.
Music exalts each joy, allays each grief,
Expels diseases, softens every pain,
Subdues the rage of poison, and the plague.
John Armstrong—Art of Preserving Health.
Bk. IV. L. 512.
That rich celestial music thrilled the air
From hosts on hosts of shining ones, who thronged
Eastward and westward, making bright the night.
Edwin Arnold—Light of Asia. Bk. IV. L.
418.
Music tells no truths.
Bailey—Festus. Sc. A Village Feast.
Rugged the breast that music cannot tame.
J. C. Bampfylde—Sonnet.
| seealso = (See also Bramston)
| topic = Music
| page = 535
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>If music and sweet poetry agree.
Baenfield—Sonnet.
Gayly the troubadour
Touched his guitar.
Thomas Haynes Bayly—Welcome Me Home.
I'm saddest when I sing.
Thomas Haynes Bayly—You think I have a
merry heart.
| seealso = (See also Aetemus Ward)
| topic = Music
| page = 535
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>God is its author, and not man; he laid
The key-note of all harmonies; he planned
All perfect combinations, and he made
Us so that we could hear and understand.
J. G. Brainard—Music.
The rustle of the leaves in summer's hush
When wandering breezes touch them, and the
sigh
That filters through the forest, or the gush
That swells and sinks amid the branches high,—
'Tis all the music of the wind, and we
Let fancy float on this seolian breath.
J. G. Brainard—Music.
"Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast,"
And therefore proper at a sheriff's feast.
James Bramston—jMan of Taste. First line
quoted from Prior.
| seealso = (See also Bampfylde, Congeeve, Prior)
| topic = Music
| page = 535
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>And sure there is music even in the beauty,
and the silent note which Cupid strikes, far
sweeter than the sound of an instrument; for
there is music wherever there is harmony, order,
or proportion; and thus far we may maintain
the music of the spheres.
Sir Thomas Browne—Religio Medici. Pt. II, Sec. IX. Use of the phrase "Music of the Spheres" given by Bishop Martin
Fotherby—Athconastrix. P. 315. (Ed.
1622) Said by Bishop John Wilktns—
Discovery of 'a New World. I. 42. (Ed. 1694) | seealso = (See also Butler, Byron, Cowley, Job, Milton, Montaigne, Moore)
| topic = Music
| page = 535
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>Yet half the beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh, as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man.
The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain—
For the reed that grows never more again
Jsa reed with the reeds of the river.
E. B. Browning—A Musical Instrument.
{{Hoyt quote
| num = | text = <poem>Her voice, the music of the spheres,
So loud, it deafens mortals' ears; As wise philosophers have thought, And that's the cause we hear it not. Butler—Hudibras. Pt. II. Canto I. L. 617.
| seealso = (See also {{sc|Browne)
