The Ridpath Library of Universal Literature: A Biographical and Bibliographical Summary of the World's Most Eminent Authors, Including the Choicest Selections and Masterpieces from Their Writings ...
Fifth avenue library society, 1899
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American appeared army became become born brought called character Christ Christian Church death died earth educated England English entered eyes father feel gave give hand happy head heart heaven History honor hope human Italy John kind King known land leave less letter light literary living London look Lord March matter means mind mountain nature never night once passed person play poems poet poor present published received rest returned Rome round seemed seen side song soul sound spirit stand story strange tell thee things thou thought tion took Translation true truth turn United University volume whole write written wrote young
Página 19 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. 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 41 - Of law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God ; her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and earth do her homage ; the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power.
Página 421 - Seven years, my lord, have now passed since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour.
Página 447 - Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time...
Página 421 - Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help...
Página 379 - The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boisterous passions, the most unremitting despotism on the one part, and degrading submissions on the other.
Página 376 - Perhaps the strongest feature in his character was prudence, never acting until every circumstance, every consideration was maturely weighed ; refraining if he saw a doubt, but, when once decided, going through with his purpose whatever obstacles opposed. His integrity was most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known — no motives of interest or consanguinity, of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his decision. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, a good, and...
Página 305 - With some difficulty he got down into the glen : he found the gully up which he and his companion had ascended the preceding evening ; but to his astonishment a mountain stream was now foaming down it, leaping from rock to rock, and filling the glen with babbling murmurs. He, however, made shift to scramble up its sides, working his toilsome...
Página 306 - It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay, the roof fallen in, the windows shattered, and the doors off the hinges. A half-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was an unkind cut indeed.
Página 447 - Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.