Facts Without Fiction and Tales from the Life, Illustrative of the Evil Effects of Spirit Drinking

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B.Bagster, 1835
 

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Стр. 155 - 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.
Стр. 183 - Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.
Стр. 10 - Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransomed nature The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
Стр. 146 - Man-like, but different sex ; so lovely fair, That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now Mean, or in her summ'd up...
Стр. 83 - Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn; Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green : One only master grasps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain.
Стр. 83 - And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away, thy children leave the land ! Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay! Princes and Lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made : But a bold Peasantry, their country's pride...
Стр. 139 - And the harp, and the viol, the tabret, and pipe, and wine, are in their feasts : but they regard not the work of the LORD, neither consider the operation of his hands.
Стр. 73 - And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away, thy children leave the land. Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Стр. 138 - Cease your grief," said the sage, " go home for the present, and return hither when you have procured a live black beetle, together with a little ghee (or buffalo's butter), three clews, one of the finest silk, another of stout packthread, and another of whipcord ; finally, a stout coil of rope.
Стр. 138 - ... ghee, to tie one end of the silk thread around him, and to place the reptile on the wall of the tower. Seduced by the smell of the butter, which he conceived to be in store somewhere above him, the beetle continued to ascend till he reached the top, and thus put the vizier in possession of the end of the silk thread...

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