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"Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made. Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. Hark! now I hear them, ding dong bell!" And so singing, Ariel led the spell-bound prince into the presence of Prospero and Miranda.
And insincerity is the knell of art." Nan skimmed the surface defiantly. "What a disagreeable criticism! You might have given me some encouragement instead of crushing my poor little attempt at composition like that!" Rooke looked at her gravely. With him, sincerity in art was a fetish; in life, a superfluity. But for the moment he was genuinely moved.
They strike like a knell upon his ears a death-knell to all his dearest hopes. And that fellow on his knees before her, kissing her hand, and telling her he will still hope! Hope for what? Alas, he tells himself, he knows only too well her love! "I am so glad they have made it up," Dora goes on, looking up sympathetically at Sir Adrian. "Made it up?
No! for, 'mid storms of Fate opposing, Still higher swell'd thy dauntless heart, And, while Despair the scene was closing, Commenced thy brief but brilliant part. Thy death's hour heard no kindred wail, No holy knell thy requiem rung; Thy mourners were the plaided Gael, Thy dirge the clamourous pibroch sung.
The morning being calm and fair, the effect of this dropping fire was to invest the Castle in wreaths of smoke, the edges of which dissipated slowly in the air, while the central veil was darkened ever and anon by fresh clouds poured forth from the battlements; the whole giving, by the partial concealment, an appearance of grandeur and gloom, rendered more terrific when Waverley reflected on the cause by which it was produced, and that each explosion might ring some brave man's knell.
"In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen," so ran his memorable words, "in your hands, not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. We are not enemies, but friends." This message, held out as an olive branch, the South denounced as a menace. Some northern papers condemned it as the "knell and requiem of the Union."
"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up the dragon." Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac Worthington's ears. "Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint. We maimed him too thoroughly for that. He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town." "All right," said the seneschal.
The matter really was a new line, invented by M. Jupille, cast a little further than an ordinary one, and rigged up with a float like a raft, carrying a little clapper. The fish rang their own knell as they took the hook. "It's rattling like mad!" cried Jupille, "and you don't stir! I couldn't have thought it of you, Monsieur Flamaran."
"Full fathom deep thy father lies; Of his bones are corals made; Those are pearls which were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange; Fairies hourly ring his knell, Hark! I hear them. Ding dong bell." The Tempest. Yes, it is over; and the great Armada is vanquished.
Brightly illumined is the fane, within which no taper hath gleamed since the old worship ceased, showing that preparations are made for the last service. The organ, dumb so long, breathes a low prelude. Sad is it to hear that knell sad to view those gloriously-dyed panes and to think why the one rings and the other is lighted up.
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