The Waverley Novels, Том 6

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A. and C. Black, 1893

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Страница 307 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Страница 173 - And I will feed them that oppress thee with their own flesh; And they shall be drunken with their own blood, as with sweet wine: And all flesh shall know that I the Lord am thy Saviour And thy Redeemer, the mighty One of Jacob.
Страница 89 - Did I but purpose to embark with thee On the smooth surface of a summer's sea ; While gentle zephyrs play in prosperous gales, And fortune's favour fills the swelling sails ; But would forsake the ship, and make the shore, When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar...
Страница 358 - Ah, fields beloved in vain, Where once my careless childhood stray'd, A stranger yet to pain ? I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Страница 81 - I AM a son of Mars, Who have been in many wars, And show my cuts and scars Wherever I come ; This here was for a wench, And that other in a trench, When welcoming the French At the sound of the drum.
Страница 281 - Whate'er he did was done with so much ease, In him alone 'twas natural to please : His motions all accompanied with grace ; And paradise was open'd in his face.
Страница 146 - SAVE me, O God ; for the waters are come in unto my soul. I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.
Страница 288 - Certain men, the children of Belial, are gone out from among you, and have withdrawn the inhabitants of their city, saying, Let us go and serve other gods...
Страница 311 - The charge is prepared, the lawyers are met, The judges all ranged — a terrible show ! Beggar's Opera. So deep was the slumber which succeeded the agitation and embarrassment of the preceding day, that Morton hardly knew where he was when it was broken by the tramp of horses, the hoarse voice of men, and the wild sound of the trumpets blowing the reveille.
Страница 14 - ... in rotation, at the distance of sixty or seventy paces. He whose ball brought down the mark held the proud title of Captain of the Popinjay for the remainder of the day, and was usually escorted in triumph to the most reputable change-house in the neighbourhood, where the evening was closed with conviviality, conducted under his auspices, and, if he was able to sustain it, at his expense.

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