The Border Magazine: An Illustrated Monthly, Volumen 7

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Nicholas Dickson, William Sanderson
Carter & Pratt, 1902
 

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Página 226 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise. In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Página 12 - Thou know'st it well, — nor fen, nor sedge, Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink At once upon the level brink ; And just a trace of silver sand Marks where the water meets the land. Far in the mirror, bright and blue, Each hill's huge outline you may view ; Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare, Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there, Save where, of land, yon slender line Bears thwart the lake the scatter'd pine.
Página 236 - He only is advancing in life, whose heart is getting softer, whose blood warmer, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is entering into Living* peace. And the men who have this life in them are the true lords or kings of the earth — they, and they only.
Página 78 - I knew a very wise man, so much of Sir Christopher's sentiment that he believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation.
Página 224 - Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves : for they watch for your souls, as they that must give account, that they may do it with joy, and not with grief: for that is unprofitable for you.
Página 214 - Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; Of patriot battles, won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold , Of later fields of feud and fight, When, pouring from...
Página 236 - My nephew good," the Douglas said, " What recks the death of ane ! Last night I dream'da dreary dream, And I ken the day's thy ain. " My wound is deep ; I fain would sleep ; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken bush, That grows on yonder lilye lee.
Página 235 - O is my basnet a widow's curch? Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree? Or my arm a lady's lily hand?
Página 71 - You can have no idea of the exquisite delight of a planter, — he is like a painter laying on his colours, — at every moment he sees his effects coming out. There is no art or occupation comparable to this ; it is full of past, present, and future enjoyment. I look back to the time when there was not a tree here, only bare heath ; I look round and see thousands of trees growing up, all of which, I may say almost each of which, have received my personal attention. I remember, five years ago, looking...
Página 105 - By the Eternal and Almighty God, who liveth and reigneth for ever, we become your liege men, and truth and faith shall bear unto you, and live and die with you, against all manner of folk whatever, in your service, according to the national covenant and solemn league and covenant.

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