Campbell, Or, The Scottish Probationer: A Novel, Том 1

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William A. Mercein, 1819
 

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Страница 103 - O! it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.
Страница 14 - Right well she knew each temper to descry, To thwart the proud, and the submiss to raise...
Страница 205 - Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear the hill that lifts him to the storms, And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to his mother's breast, So the loud torrent and the whirlwinds roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
Страница 177 - Sun, stand thou still on Gibeon, and thou moon in the valley of Ajalon.
Страница 140 - I've changed my way o' life : she's a kind creature to me, and I'll maybe hae mae to provide for, — at least the lassie's been hinting as muckle ; an' ye mind the apostle says, ' he that provideth not for his own house, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.
Страница 78 - Sir, to a wise man, all the world's his soil : It is not Italy, nor France, nor Europe, That must bound me, if my fates call me forth. Yet I protest, it is no salt desire Of seeing countries, shifting a religion, Nor any disaffection to the state Where I was bred, and unto which I owe My dearest plots, hath brought me out...
Страница 142 - Deign on the passing world to turn thine eyes, And pause awhile from letters, to be wise; There mark what ills the scholar's life assail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
Страница 69 - The needy man, who has known better days, One, whom distress has spited at the world, Is he, whom tempting fiends would pitch upon To do such deeds as makes the prosperous men Lift up their hands and wonder who could do them.
Страница 259 - ... impatient spirit feeds, And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds. Struck through the brain, deprived of both his eyes, The vanquished bird must combat till he dies ; Must faintly peck at his victorious foe. And reel and stagger at each feeble blow : When fallen, the savage grasps his dabbled plumes, His blood-stained arms, for other deaths assumes ; And damns the craven fowl, that lost his stake, And only bled and perished for his sake.
Страница 117 - ... a privateer, I should have been entitled to clothing and maintenance during the rest of my life : but that was not my chance ; one man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and another with a wooden ladle. However, blessed be God, I enjoy good health ; and have no enemy in this world, that I know of, but the French, and the justice of peace.

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