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Page 290 - MID pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home! A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which seek through the world is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home! home! sweet, sweet home! There's no place like home!
Page 17 - Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke, When round the ruins of their ancient oak The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols closed the busy day. Her wheel at rest, the matron thrills no more With treasured tales, and legendary lore. All, all are fled ; nor mirth nor music flows To chase the dreams of innocent repose. All, all are fled ; yet still I linger here ! What...
Page 38 - The adventurous boy, that asks his little share, And hies from home with many a gossip's prayer, Turns on the neighbouring hill, once more to see The dear abode of peace and privacy...
Page 324 - Take heed what you say, sir ! An hundred honest men ! why, if there were So many i'th' city, twere enough to forfeit Their charter.
Page 160 - I'm here : who calls me ? Methought I heard a voice, Sweet as the shepherd's pipe upon the mountains, When all his little flock's at feed before him. But what means this ? here's blood ! Cast. Ay, brother's blood ! Art thou prepar'd for everlasting pains? Pol. Oh ! let me charge thee, by th,' eternal Justice, Hurt not her tender lite ! Cast.
Page 123 - Jaromir ! it is a fearful thing To love as I love thee ; to feel the world — The bright, the beautiful, joy-giving world — A blank without thee.
Page 297 - Sir," said Doctor Mendry, taking a pinch of Major Fontenoy's snuff, and laying the forefinger of his right hand in the palm of his left. "Sir, it is a remarkable case. A curious feature is the wonderful knowledge he exhibits in the diagnosis of his own disease. c Come doctor,' he will say, ' I wish to test the matter of my sanity. Let's take a game of chess, mad or not mad. You are mad, doctor. I am not mad.
Page 35 - Thou look'st a very statue of surprise, As if a lightning blast had dried thee up, And had not left thee moisture for a tear.
Page 316 - I'll bear ye off, and honour ye ; If not, ye have found your graves : So, farewell ! [Exeunt. Nie. That goodness dwells above, and knows us innocent, Comfort our lives, and at his pleasure quit us ! Seb. Come, cousin, com« ! Old Time will end our story ; But no time (if we end well) ends our glory ! [Exeunt.