A Sportswoman in India: Personal Adventures and Experiences of Travel in Known and Unknown India

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Hutchinson & Company, 1900 - 408 стор.
 

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Сторінка 3 - Not see ? because of night perhaps ? — Why, day Came back again for that! before it left, The dying sunset kindled through a cleft: The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay, Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay, — 'Now stab and end the creature — to the heft!
Сторінка 6 - Said Jesus, on whom be peace! The world is a bridge, pass over it, but build no house there. He who hopeth for an hour, may hope for eternity; the world is but an hour, spend it in devotion ; the rest is worth nothing.
Сторінка 147 - Out of darkness, as if but just born of the Sun. When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day, From his Haram of night-flowers stealing away ; And the wind, full of wantonness, woos like a lover The young aspen-trees, till they tremble all over. When the East is as warm as the light of first hopes, And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurled, Shines in through the mountainous portal* that opes, Sublime, from that Valley of bliss to the world...
Сторінка 321 - My own feeling on the subject is one of sorrow that such a brilliant soldier should have laid himself open to so much adverse criticism. Moreover, I do not think that, under any circumstances, he should have done the deed himself, or ordered it to be done in that summary manner, unless there had been evident signs of an attempt at a rescue.
Сторінка 248 - How should this be? Art thou then so much more Than they who sowed, that thou shouldst reap thereby? Nay, come up hither. From this wave-washed mound Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me; Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd. Miles and miles distant though the last line be, And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond, — Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.
Сторінка 309 - Our way from the Lahore gate by the Chandni Chauk led through a veritable city of the dead ; not a sound was to be heard but the falling of our own footsteps ; not a living creature was to be seen. Dead bodies were strewn about in all directions, in every attitude that the death-struggle had caused them to assume, and in every stage of decomposition.
Сторінка 400 - Where forlorn sunsets flare and fade On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend With love that cannot brook delay, To rise and follow the ways that wend Over the hills and far away?
Сторінка 400 - I love all waste And solitary places ; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be...
Сторінка 181 - And wall impregnable of beaming ice. Yet not a city, but a flood of ruin Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky Rolls its perpetual stream; vast pines are strewing Its destined path, or in the mangled...
Сторінка 383 - The canoe drew near, and when within about '20 yards the great boulders of granite began to move ! I could not believe my eyes ; great masses commenced to unfold, and in a few seconds resolved themselves into two vast forms, each as thick as the body of a hippopotamus, and of enormous length. These two antediluvian monsters glided slowly and fearlessly along the gently sloping granite, and when half beneath the water they exposed a breadth of back which was the most extraordinary sight I have ever...

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