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Página 74 - Young men and maidens, old men and children, praise the Name of the Lord : for his Name only is excellent, and his praise above heaven and earth.
Página 74 - Let them praise the name of the Lord: for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven.
Página 525 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's King and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Página 337 - With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, " Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!
Página 303 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
Página 310 - Royal brother," returned Richard, "recollect that the Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble and incapable of deceit. He forgets neither friend nor foe — remembers, and with accuracy, both benefit and injury. He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood. You may bribe a soldier to slay a man with his sword, or a witness to take life by false accusation ; but you cannot make a hound tear his benefactor...
Página 25 - Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore : Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when call'd In secret, riding through the air she comes, Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance With Lapland witches, while the labouring moon Eclipses at their charms.
Página 673 - Which is why I remark. And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, — Which the same I am free to maintain.
Página 309 - Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, Degraded mass of animated dust! Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit ! By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on— it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one, — and here he lies.