Conquest and Self-conquest; Or, Which Makes the Hero?

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1852 - American fiction - 216 pages
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Page 105 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran.
Page 113 - More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue. Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way ; Thus, from afar, each dim-discovered scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been, And every form, that Fancy can- repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.
Page 59 - When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded ; Or if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded ; But when on life we're tempest-driv'n, A conscience but a canker — A correspondence fix'd wi' Heav'n Is sure a noble anchor!
Page 204 - ... have great reason to be sad : I fear, you have sold your own lands, to see other men's; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
Page 108 - I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and he that liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
Page 1 - He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.
Page 58 - ... the path of the just, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.
Page 187 - Yet, fill'd with all youth's sweet desires, Mingling the meek and vestal fires Of other worlds with all the bliss, The fond, weak tenderness of this ! A soul, too, more than half divine, Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, Religion's...
Page 1 - ... Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause; An awful pause! prophetic of her end. And let her prophecy be soon fulfilled: Fate! drop the curtain; I can lose no more. Silence and Darkness! solemn sisters! twins From ancient Night, who nurse the tender thought To reason, and on reason build resolve— That column of true majesty in man...
Page 17 - Who falls from all he knows of bliss Cares little into what abyss.

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