Once a Week, Volume 1; Volume 14 (Google eBook)

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Eneas Sweetland Dallas
Bradbury and Evans, 1866
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Page 427 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 12 - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Page 485 - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!
Page 331 - To which for crest the golden dragon clung Of Britain; so she did not see the face, Which then was as an angel's, but she saw, Wet with the mists and smitten by the lights, The Dragon of the great Pendragonship Blaze, making all the night a steam of fire.
Page 480 - Or the seven stars to light you, Or the polar ray to right you; But you never may behold Little John or Robin bold; Never one, of all the clan, Thrumming on an empty can Some old hunting ditty, while He doth his green way beguile To fair hostess Merriment, Down beside the pasture Trent; For he left the merry tale Messenger for spicy ale. Gone, the merry morris din; Gone, the song of Gamelyn; Gone, the tough-belted outlaw Idling in the "grene shawe...
Page 52 - No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
Page 360 - I had entered the Green by the gate at the foot of Charlotte Street had passed the old washing-house. I was thinking upon the engine at the time and had gone as far as the Herd's house when the idea came into my mind, that as steam was an elastic body it would rush into a vacuum, and if a communication was made between the cylinder and an exhausted vessel, it would rush into it, and might be there condensed without cooling the cylinder.
Page 162 - Farewell, great painter of mankind ! Who reach'd the noblest point of art, Whose pictured morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the heart. If Genius fire thee, reader, stay, If nature touch thee, drop a tear, If neither move thee turn away For Hogarth's honour'd dust lies here.
Page 480 - From wealthy abbots' chests, and churls' abundant store, What oftentimes he took he shared amongst the poor : No lordly bishop came in lusty Robin's way, To him, before he went, but for his pass must pay ; The widow in distress he graciously...
Page 418 - But he made no answer to what I said. We lifted him up to his saddle again, And through the mire and the mist and the rain Carried him back to the silent camp, And laid him as if asleep on his bed; And...

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