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Alban Butler Alice angel archers Baldwyn barons bishop Blessed Blustoff Bollandists Bridgenorth called castle Catholic cause chatelaine Christian Church countess Countess of Arundel courser court creature cried Crowle Damascus dame damoiselle Dante death Dickon divine Earl of Gloucester Earl Simon Elmley Emmeline England English exclaimed existence eyes fair faith Father favour Feckenham follow forest friar Giaours grace hand hath heart heaven hither Hodington Holy honour human justice Kempsey Kenilworth King King's Kirth lady laws look lord maiden martyrs matter methinks mind nature never noble persons prelate present priest Prince prisoners pursued Queen quoth rejoined replied returned saints seneschal side Sir Everard sir knight Sir Roger Sir Walter soul spirit squire steed suffer Sybil tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thou wilt thou wouldst thought tion truth William de Beauchamp Worcester words young
Page 325 - Of law there can be no less acknowledged, than that her seat is the bosom of God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things in heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power...
Page 168 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Page 167 - Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as befpre, But vaster.
Page 167 - We have but faith : we cannot know ; For knowledge is of things we see ; And yet we trust it comes from thee, A beam in darkness : let it grow.
Page 203 - Here sighs, with lamentations and loud moans, Resounded through the air pierced by no star, That e'en I wept at entering. Various tongues, Horrible languages, outcries of woe, Accents of anger, voices deep and hoarse, With hands together smote that swell'd the sounds, Made up a tumult, that for ever whirls Round through that air with solid darkness stain'd, Like to the sand that in the whirlwind flies.
Page 336 - Here thou to us, of charity and love, Art, as the noon-day torch ; and art, beneath, To mortal men, of hope a living spring. So mighty art thou, lady, and so great, That he, who grace desireth, and comes not To thee for aidance, fain would have desire Fly without wings.
Page 167 - Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of thee, And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
Page 204 - a should not think of God ; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet: So, 'a bade me lay more clothes on his feet : I put my hand into the bed, and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone ; then I felt to his knees, and so upward, and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.
Page 321 - Catholic was reminded from the bench that ' the laws did not presume a Papist to exist in the kingdom, nor could they breathe without the connivance of the Government.