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Alamut Apostolo Zeno appeared asked beautiful Beethoven Bernicia birds Blake Bronte burial called century character Charlotte Charlotte Bronte Chinese Christian Church Deira Dowse drama Drummond Edward Dowse England English eyes Faust feeling genius George Miller girl give hand happy heart hills Hissarlik honour hope human Hyderabad Ismailis Italian Italy Jane Eyre Khojas kind knew lady land letter living loch London look Lord ment Metastasio Miller mind morality mountains nature never night Nizam nurses oath once passed perhaps poet poetry present Quakerism religion religious round Scamander Schiller Sea-Pyot seemed Shia shore side silent Sir Joseph Arnould sister soul speak spirit Stoian story strange Streatham talk tell things thou thought tion truth Violet Warrener whole wife's mother wish woman words write young
Page 443 - Tunes her nocturnal note: thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Page 407 - t shall do so for thee. Bid me to weep, and I will weep, While I have eyes to see: And having none, yet I will keep A heart to weep for thee. Bid me despair, and I'll despair Under that cypress tree: Or bid me die, and I will dare E'en death to die for thee.
Page 350 - Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her.
Page 459 - They that are delivered from the noise of archers in the places of drawing water, there shall they rehearse the righteous acts of the Lord...
Page 56 - When the Sun rises, do you not see a round disk of fire somewhat like a guinea?" "O no, no, I see an innumerable company of the Heavenly host crying, 'Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty".
Page 394 - And all killing insects and gnawing worms, And things of obscene and unlovely forms, She bore in a basket of Indian woof, Into the rough woods far aloof, In a basket, of grasses and wild flowers full, The freshest her gentle hands could pull For the poor banished insects, whose intent, Although they did ill, was innocent.
Page 144 - Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and falsehood grapple ; who ever knew Truth put to the worst in a free and open encounter?
Page 385 - I fancied an austere little Joan of Arc marching in upon us, and rebuking our easy lives, our easy morals. She gave me the impression of being a very pure, and lofty, and high-minded person. A great and holy reverence of right and truth seemed to be with her always.
Page 343 - Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the " Drink and make-merry," which (genuine or not) recurs overfrequently in the Original. Either way, the Result is sad enough: saddest perhaps when most ostentatiously merry : more apt to move Sorrow than Anger toward the old Tentmaker, who, after vainly endeavouring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic Glimpse of TOMORROW, fell back upon TODAY (which has outlasted so many Tomorrows!) as the only Ground he got to...