But this does not usurp her mind.
It is but sorrow guessed from far
Thro' twilight dimly. She must find
Her duty elsewhere: not resigned--
Because she knows them what they are,
Yet scarcely ruffled from her peace.
Cordelia--a name well revered;
Synonymous with truth and tried
Affection; which but needs be heard
To raise one selfsame thought endeared
To men and women far and wide;
A name our mothers taught to us.
Like placid faces which you knew
Years since, but not again shall meet;
On a sick bed like wind that blew;
An excellent thing, best likened to
Her own voice, gentle, soft, and sweet;
Shakpere's Cordelia;--better thus.
Macbeth {9}
{9} It is proper to state that this article was written, and seen,
exactly as it at present stands, by several literary friends of the
writer, a considerable time before the appearance, in the
"Westminster Review," of a Paper advocating a view of "Macbeth,"
similar to that which is here taken. But although the publication of
the particular view was thus anticipated, nearly all the most
forcible arguments for maintaining it were omitted; and the subject,
mixed up, as it was, with lengthy disquisitions upon very minor
topics of Shaksperian acting, &c. made no very general impression at
the time.
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