Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/592

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554 NIAGARA NIGHT

There's villainous news abroad.

Henry IV. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 4. L. 365.


Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd tolling a departed friend.
Henry IV. Pt. II. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 100.


And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price
I pr'ythee now, deliver them like a man of the world.
Henry IV. Pt. II. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 101.


I drown'd these news in tears.
Henry VI. Pt. III. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 104.
s News fitting to the night.
Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.
King John. Act V. Sc. 6. L. 19.


My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered.
King John. Act V. Sc. 7. L. 55.


Master, master! news, old news, and such
news as you never heard of!
Taming of the Shrew. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 30.


How goes it now, sir? this news which is
called true is so like an old tale, that the verity
of it is in strong suspicion.
Winter's Tale. Act V. Sc'. 2. L. 25.


Ce n'est pas un evenement, c'est une nouvelle.
It is not an event, it is a piece of news.
Talleyrand. On hearing of Napoleon's
death.
 | topic = Night
 | page = 554
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NEWSPAPERS (See Journalism, News)

NIAGARA

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>"Niagara! wonder of this western world,
And half the world beside! hail, beauteous queen
Of cataracts!" An angel who had been
O'er heaven and earth, spoke thus, his bright
wings furled,
And knelt to Nature first, on this wild cliff unseen.
Maria Brooks—To Niagara.


Fools-to-free-the-world, they go,
Primeval hearts from Buffalo.
Red cataracts of France to-day
Awake, three thousand miles away,
An echo of Niagara
The cataract Niagara.
Vachel Lindsay—Niagara.


Flow on, forever, in thy glorious robe
Of terror and of beauty. Yea, flow on
Unfathomed and resistless. God hath set
His rainbow on thy forehead: and the cloud
Mantled around thy feet. And He doth give
Thy voice of thunder power to speak of Him
Eternally—bidding the lip of man
Keep silence—and upon thine altar pour
Incense of awe-struck praise.
Lydia H. Siqourney—Niagara.
 | topic = Niagara
 | page = 554
}}

NIGHT
 
{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Night is a stealthy, evil Raven,
Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.
T. B. Aldrich—Day and Night.


Night comes, world-jewelled, * * *
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon,
Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth
After the sun's red sea-death—quietless.
Bailey—Festus. Sc. Garden and Bower by the Sea.
 | author =
 | work =
 | place =
 | note =
 | topic = Night
 | page = 554
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num = 15
 | text = I love night more than day—she is so lovely;
But I love night the most because she brings
My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie.
Bailey—Festus. Sc. Water and Wood. Midnight.


Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.
Beowulf. III.


When it draws near to witching time of night.
Blair—The Grave. L. 55.
 | seealso = (See also Hamlet, Keats)
 | topic = Night
 | page = 554
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>The Night has a thousand eyes,
The Day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
F. W. Botfrdillon—Light.
 | seealso = (See also Lyly, also Bourdillon, Plato and Sylvester under Eyes)
 Most glorious night!
Thou wert not sent for slumber!
Byron—Childe Harold. Canto III.
St. 93.
 For the night
Shows stars and women in a better light.
 | author = Byron
 | work = Don Juan. Canto II. St. 152.


The stars are forth, the moon above the tops
Of the snow-shining mountains—Beautiful!
I linger yet with Nature, for the night
Hath been to me a more familiar face
Than that of man; and in her starry shade
Of dim and solitary loveliness
I learn'd the language of another world.
 | author = Byron
 | work = Manfred. Act III. Sc. 4.


Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
Du Bartas—Duine Weekes and Workes.
First Week. First Day. L. 562.


Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening hours,—
Whisperings, wooings,
Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings
In low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills!
Dark the night
Yet is she bright,
For in her dark she brings the mystic star,
Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love,
From some unknown afar.
George Eliot—Spanish Gypsy. Song. Bk. I.