Holidays Abroad: Or, Europe from the West, Volumen 2

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Baker and Scribner, 1849

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Página 188 - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Página 188 - A sunbeam which hath lost its way, And through the crevice and the cleft Of the thick wall is fallen and left...
Página 188 - Dying as their father died, For the God their foes denied ; Three were in a dungeon cast, Of whom this wreck is left the last.
Página 226 - O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united! For in their anger they slew a man, and in their self-will they digged down a wall. Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce, and their wrath, for it was cruel. I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel.
Página 30 - When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with wrath. " And they rose up and put him out of the city, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their city was built, that they might throw him down headlong.

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