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Ambrose bank boat brother bump Captain Christian church Coleshill Comus Consall coolie Corporal coxswain crew Crocodile dark dead Donald door Duvno Earl Douglas Earl Percy ears eyes face father fear feet fellows fire FIRE OF LONDON gate gave give goldbeaters gone Grimes grin hand Hardy hath head heard heart Heaven honour hope horses Ivan Jane King Katzekopf knew Lady Abracadabra Laplander live look Lord lord chamberlain master Miller mind morning mother never night noble o'er Old Cheeseman Oriel Owlstone pass'd pleasant plains poor Pudding Lane race round side Sir Hugh Montgomery snow soul stranger stroke tears tell thee things thou art thought Tochana told Trim uncle Toby Vent voice walked Warwickshire weary Willie wind woman wonder wood words young
Página 7 - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Página 67 - And sullen Moloch fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste.
Página 45 - NOW entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe. From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret .whispers of each other's watch. Fire answers fire ; and through their paly flames Each battle sees the other's umber
Página 46 - There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful and good husbandry: Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all, admonishing That we should dress us fairly for our end.
Página 237 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on Kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Página 24 - Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? I did not err, there does a sable cloud •Turn forth her silver lining on the night...
Página 66 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance or breathed spell Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Página 62 - But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; She crown'd with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing ; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
Página 130 - Being. Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, and exerting all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. A...
Página 47 - O God of battles ! steel my soldiers' hearts ! Possess them not with fear ; take from them now The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them! — Not to-day, O Lord, 0 not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown...