Paul's Letters to His Kinsfolk

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J. Ballantyne and Company, 1816 - Всего страниц: 468
 

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Стр. 353 - Thou hast had pity on the gourd, for the which thou hast not laboured, neither madest it grow ; which came up in a night, and perished in a night. And should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more than six score thousand persons that cannot discern between their right hand and their left hand, and also much cattle ?
Стр. 263 - Berkley's roof that ring, Shrieks of an agonizing king ! She-wolf of France, with unrelenting fangs, That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate, From thee be born, who o'er thy country hangs The scourge of heaven. What terrors round him wait ! Amazement in his van, with flight combined, And sorrow's faded form, and solitude behind.
Стр. 168 - Believe me," he afterwards said, " that nothing, excepting a battle lost, can be half so melancholy as a battle won. The bravery of my troops has hitherto saved me from that greater evil ; but, to win...
Стр. 402 - In gentle stream; then rose the song, the loud Acclaim of praise. The wheeling plover ceased Her plaint; The solitary place was glad, And on the distant cairns the watcher's ear Caught doubtfully at times the breeze-borne note.
Стр. 18 - And arrowy frize, and wedged ravelin, Wove like a diadem its tracery round The lofty summit of that mountain green ; Here stood secure the group, and eyed a distant scene.
Стр. 403 - We have a little sister, and she hath no breasts; what shall we do for our sister in the day when she shall be spoken for?
Стр. 154 - You are uncommonly savage to-day,' said an officer to his friend, a young man of rank, who was arming himself with a third sabre, after two had been broken in his grasp.
Стр. 31 - I'm resolved to search for thee; The search itself rewards the pains. So, though the chymic his great secret miss (For neither it in Art or Nature is), Yet things well worth his toil he gains: And does his charge and labour pay With good unsought experiments by the way.
Стр. 419 - His marvellous preservation had transformed him. Thenceforth he held himself for an exempted And privileged being, and, as if he were Incapable of dizziness or fall, He ran along the unsteady rope of life. But now our destinies drove us asunder: He paced with rapid step the way of greatness, Was Count, and Prince, Duke-regent, and Dictator. And now is all, all this too little for him ; He stretches forth his hands for a king's crown, And plunges in unfathomable ruin.
Стр. 63 - I on a sledge be drawn, And mangled by a hind, I do defy the traitor's power ; He cannot harm my mind : ' What though, uphoisted on a pole, My limbs shall rot in air, And no rich monument of brass Charles Bawdin's name shall bear...

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