Confessions of country quarters, Volume 635

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Page 263 - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness : And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Page 252 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 132 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain!
Page 201 - The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity.
Page 132 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell ; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell...
Page 113 - The glorious, pious and immortal memory of the great and good King William — not forgetting Oliver Cromwell, who assisted in redeeming us from Popery, slavery, arbitrary power, brass money and wooden shoes.
Page 15 - And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of heaven, to divide the day from the night ; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and for years.
Page 24 - Act, other than the Person thereunto authorized by Law, shall assume or use the Name, Style, or Title of Archbishop of any Province, Bishop of any Bishoprick, or Dean of any Deanery, in England or Ireland, he shall for every such Offence forfeit and pay the Sum of One hundred Pounds.
Page 260 - They come, in dim procession led, The cold, the faithless, and the dead ; As warm each hand, each brow as gay, As if they parted yesterday.
Page 187 - Why, soldiers, why Should we be melancholy, boys, Why, soldiers, why ? Whose business 'tis to die...

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