The American Fugitive in Europe: Sketches of Places and People Abroad

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Sheldon, Lamport & Blakeman, 1855 - 315 páginas
 

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Página 245 - For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right...
Página 280 - Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. " For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Página 12 - Th' insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field Strow'd with Rome's citizens, and drench'd in slaughter, His horse's hoofs wet with Patrician blood ! Oh, Portius ! is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man, Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin...
Página 150 - Near this spot are deposited the Remains of one who possessed Beauty without Vanity. Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, and all the Virtues of Man without his Vices.
Página 129 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with age and dust ; Who in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.
Página 202 - The time shall come, when free as seas or wind Unbounded Thames ° shall flow for all mankind ; Whole nations enter with each swelling tide, And seas but join the regions they divide ; Earth's distant ends our glory shall behold, And the new world launch forth to seek the old.
Página 251 - YE banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers. Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O
Página 91 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined; Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Página 158 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Página 270 - Where should Othello go? — Now, how dost thou look now ? O ill-starr'd wench ! Pale as thy smock ! when we shall meet at compt, This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven, And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl ? Even like thy chastity. — O cursed, cursed slave ! — Whip me, ye devils, From the possession of this heavenly sight! Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur ! Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire ! — O Desdemona!

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