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Página 379 - And a man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest ; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
Página 72 - The fisher left his skiff to rock on Tamar's glittering waves : The rugged miners poured to war from Mendip's sunless caves: O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery herald flew: He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu. Right sharp and quick the bells all night rang out from Bristol town, And ere the day three hundred horse had met on Clifton down...
Página 282 - Croix River to the highlands; along the said highlands which divide those rivers that empty themselves into the river St. Lawrence from those which fall into the Atlantic Ocean to the northwesternmost head of Connecticut River...
Página 70 - But the Consul's brow was sad, And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe: "Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down ; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town?
Página 72 - Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the north ; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still: All night from tower to tower they sprang; they sprang from hill to hill : Till...
Página 41 - One science only will one genius fit ; So vast is art, so narrow human wit : Not only bounded to peculiar arts, But oft in those confined to single parts.
Página 348 - Now the golden Morn aloft Waves her dew-bespangled wing, With vermeil cheek and whisper soft She woos the tardy Spring: Till April starts, and calls around The sleeping fragrance from the ground, And lightly o'er the living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest green.
Página 61 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish Count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail; And then, we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, "Remember St. Bartholomew," was passed from man to man; But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go
Página 60 - And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land; And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's...
Página 67 - This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man!