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Сторінка 263 - In song and dance about the sacred Hill — Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere Of planets and of fixed in all her wheels Resembles nearest; mazes intricate, Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular Then most when most irregular they seem; And in their motions harmony divine So smooths her charming tones that God's own ear Listens delighted.
Сторінка 89 - I know that we shall meet our babe (his mother dear and I) Where God for aye shall wipe away all tears from every eye.
Сторінка 216 - Papist shall be capable of purchasing any lands, tenements, or hereditaments, either in his own name, or in the name of any other person in trust for him.
Сторінка 389 - Macistus' steep, — See it burst like a blazing sun ! Doth Macistus sleep On his tower-clad steep * No ! rapid and red doth the wild-fire sweep. It flashes afar on the wayward stream Of the wild Euripus, the rushing beam ! It rouses the light on Messapion's height, And they feed its breath with the withered heath.
Сторінка 319 - BRIGHT flag at yonder tapering mast. Fling out your field of azure blue ; Let star and stripe be westward cast, And point as Freedom's eagle flew! Strain home ! O lithe and quivering spars ! Point home, my country's flag of stars ! The wind blows fair, the vessel feels The pressure of the rising breeze, And, swiftest of a thousand keels.
Сторінка 12 - Hearts of oak are our ships, Hearts of oak are our men, We always are ready : Steady, boys, steady ! We'll fight and we'll conquer again and again.
Сторінка 293 - The Success has hove-to athwart-hawse of the Genereux, and is firing her larboard broadside. The Frenchman has hoisted his tri-colour, with a rear-admirals flag." "Bravo — Success, at her again!" "She has wore round, my lord, and firing her starboard broadside. It has winged her, my lord — her flying kites are flying away altogether. The enemy is close on the Success, who must receive her tremendous broadside.
Сторінка 89 - Are numbered with the secret things which God will not reveal. But I know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest, Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving breast.
Сторінка 44 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.