Uncle Horace: A Novel, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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E.L. Carey & A. Hart, 1838 - Irish fiction
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Page 148 - Ah! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven, When drooping health and spirits go amiss ? How tasteless then whatever can be given? Health is the vital principle of bliss, And exercise, of health.
Page 136 - I stayed, forgive the crime, Unheeded flew the hours; How noiseless falls the foot of Time That only treads on flowers!
Page 43 - "Stop, Mr. Finn; stop. Do not say to me any unkind word that I have not deserved, and that would make a breach between us.
Page 31 - For when my bones in grass-green sods are laid; For never may ye taste more careless hours In knightly castles, or in ladies bow'rs.
Page 96 - Why drooping seek the dark recess ? Shake off the melancholy chain, For God created all to bless. But, ah ! my breast is human still ; The rising sigh, the falling tear, My languid vitals' feeble rill, The sickness of my soul declare.
Page 87 - An age that melts with unperceived decay, And glides in modest innocence away; Whose peaceful day Benevolence endears, Whose night congratulating Conscience cheers; The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend: Such age there is, and who shall wish its end? Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings, To press the weary minutes' flagging wings: New sorrow rises as the day returns, A sister sickens, or a daughter mourns.
Page 136 - Seek to be good, but aim not to be great: A woman's noblest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight, Domestic worth, that shuns too strong a light.
Page 41 - Life, long and happy, to English beauty! Despite all that has been, or ever will be said of its fragility, its danger, its destruction, it is a blessed thing to look upon, and live amongst. Talk of its fading ! it never fades : it is but transferred from face to face. The bud comes forth as the blossom is perfected, and the bud bursts into blossom but to hide the falling leaves, fragrant amid the decay of the parent flower ! Then the beauties of our country are so varied. The peasant girl,...
Page 67 - The gaudy gloss of fortune only strikes The vulgar eye ; the suffrage of the wise, The praise that's worth ambition, is attain'd By sense alone, and dignity of mind.
Page 61 - Be full, ye courts, be great who will ; Search for peace with all your skill ; Open wide the lofty door, Seek her on the marble floor, In vain you search she is not there...

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