The mysterious freebooter; or, The days of queen Bess, Том 1

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Lane, 1806
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Сторінка 158 - For tis the mind that makes the body rich ; ^• And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, •+ So honour peereth in the meanest habit.
Сторінка 23 - What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous; and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Сторінка 203 - For aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth' (Shakespeare, A Midsummer-Night's Dream, I, i, 132).
Сторінка 292 - I had a thing to say, but let it go: The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton and too full of gawds To give me audience: if the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, Sound on into the drowsy race of night...
Сторінка 273 - Here Virtue spurns me with disdain; there Pleasure spreads her snare: "Strong habit drags me back to vice; and, urg'd by fierce Despair, "I strive, while Hunger gnaws my heart, to fly from shame in vain ! — "World, 'tis thy cruel will ! I yield, and plunge in guilt again. "There's Mercy in each ray of light that mortal eyes e'er saw; "There's Mercy in each breath of air that mortal lips e'er draw; "There's Mercy both for bird and beast in GOD'S indulgent plan; "There's Mercy...
Сторінка 227 - Hail to you, horrors ! hail, thou house of death ! And thou, the lovely mistress of these shades, Whose beauty gilds the more than midnight darkness, And makes it grateful as the dawn of day. Oh, take me in, a fellow-mourner, with thee, I'll number groan for groan, and tear for tear; And when the fountain of thy eyes are dry, Mine shall supply the stream, and weep for both.
Сторінка 292 - Had baked thy blood, and made it heavy, thick, (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, A passion hateful to my purposes...
Сторінка 104 - We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' th' sun, And bleat the one at th' other: what we chang'd Was innocence for innocence: we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd That any did. Had we pursu'd that life.
Сторінка 91 - Whilst, first of gifts that from her bosom flow* Spring returns with aspect mild, Violet crown'd, her loveliest child : Now again the ruddy thorn, Glitters with the dew of morn ; Buzzing round sweet cowslip bells, Bees suck nectar from their cells ; The vivid flash from beauty's eye, When tell-tale love is lurking nigh ; The pleading look, the starting tear, That parting lovers often wear ; j The balmy kiss, the gentle sigh Escaping, yet it knows not why; All hail the lovely bloom of opening Spring,...
Сторінка 247 - There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry'd, " Murder !" That they did wake each other ; I stood and heard them: But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep. Lady. There are two lodg'd together. Macb. One cry'd, " God bless us :" and " Amen," the other ; As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands, Listening their fear.

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