Guy Mannering: Or, The Astrologer, Volume 1

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J. Maxwell, R. Wright, printer, 1823
 

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Page 104 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?
Page 40 - With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Page 210 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate.
Page 25 - They live no longer in the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend ; and to the lover Yonder they move ; from yonder visible sky Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, And Venus who brings every thing that's fair.
Page 231 - A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: Change places; and, handydandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?
Page 59 - ... the blackcock in the muirs ! — Ride your ways, Ellangowan, — Our bairns are hinging at our weary backs — look that your braw cradle at hame be the fairer spread up : not that I am wishing ill to little Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be born — God forbid, and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father ! — And now, ride e'en your ways ; for these are the last words ye'll ever hear Meg Merrilies speak, and this is the last reise that I'll ever cut in the bonny woods...
Page 59 - God forbid — and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father ! — And now, ride e'en your ways ; for these are the last words yell ever hear Meg Merrilies speak, and this is the last reise that I'll ever cut in the bonny woods of Ellangowan." So saying, she broke the sapling she held in her hand, and flung it into the road. Margaret of Anjou, bestowing on her triumphant foes her keen-edged malediction, could not have turned from them with a gesture more proudly contemptuous....
Page 58 - We have noticed that there was in her general attire, or rather in her mode of adjusting it, somewhat of a foreign costume, artfully adopted perhaps for the purpose of adding to the effect of her spells and predictions, or perhaps from some traditional notions respecting the dress of her ancestors. On this occasion, she had a large piece of red cotton cloth rolled about her head in the form of a turban, from beneath which her dark eyes flashed with uncommon lustre.
Page 148 - The close-press'd leaves, unclosed for many an age ; The dull red edging of the well-fill'd page ; On the broad back the stubborn ridges roll'd, Where yet the title stands in tarnish'd gold...
Page 111 - I'll be no burden — I have thought how to prevent that. But, as Ruth said unto Naomi, ' Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to depart from thee ; for whither thou goest I will go, and where thou dwellest I will dwell ; thy people shall be my people, and thy God shall be my God. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death do part thee and me.

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