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Стр. 136 - Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.
Стр. 512 - Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again? Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang As if her song could have no ending; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending; — I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.
Стр. 519 - Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous ring and glass, And of the wondrous horse of brass, On which the Tartar king did ride; And if aught else, great bards beside, In sage and solemn tunes have sung, Of tourneys and of trophies hung; Of forests, and enchantments drear, Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Стр. 139 - But yet the Lord that is on high, Is more of might by far, Than noise of many waters is, Or great sea-billows are.
Стр. 512 - Will no one tell me what she sings? Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again!
Стр. 426 - And Miriam, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously : the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Стр. 613 - Fearless she had track'd his feet To this rocky, wild retreat ; And, when morning met his view, Her mild glances met it too. Ah ! your Saints have cruel hearts ! Sternly from his bed he starts. And, with rude, repulsive shock, Hurls her from the beetling rock. Glendalough ! thy gloomy wave Soon was gentle Kathleen's grave ! Soon the Saint (yet ah ! too late) Felt her love, and mourn'd her fate. When he said,
Стр. 181 - Peters arguing with him," which was not very chivalrous in Mr. Peters, " broke out and said, ' That if the King had no more ground in England but Basing House, he would adventure as he did, and so maintain it to the uttermost ; ' — meaning with these Papists ; comforting himself in this disaster, 'that Basing House was called Loyalty.
Стр. 176 - By my troth, if my lord treasurer were but a young man, I could find in my heart to love him for a husband before any man in England.