Hic Et Ubique

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S. Low, Marston, 1893 - Authors, English - 317 pages
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Page 124 - It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, That cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person, twelve yards off, or so ; A gentlemanly distance, not too near, If you have got a former friend for foe ; But after being fired at once or twice, The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice.
Page 247 - Whose heart he knows he has not ; though she brings A mine of gold, a kingdom for her dowry. For let her seem, like the night's shadowy queen, Cold and contemplative — he cannot trust her : She may, she will, bring shame and sorrow on him ; The worst of sorrows, and the worst of shames ! Glen.
Page 135 - As the sun, Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow.
Page 188 - ... walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more. No more to chiefs and ladies bright The harp of Tara swells : The chord alone, that breaks at night, Its tale of ruin tells. Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, The only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she lives.
Page 212 - I've lived since then, in calm and strife, Full fifty summers, a sailor's life, With wealth to spend and a power to range, But never have sought nor sighed for change; And Death, whenever he comes to me, Shall come on the wild, unbounded sea!
Page 311 - The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan, The skeletons of nations were Around that lonely man ! Some had expired in fight, — the brands Still rusted in their bony hands; In plague and famine some ! Earth's cities had no sound nor tread : And ships were drifting with the dead To shores where all was dumb...
Page 212 - And the dolphins bared their backs of gold; And never was heard such an outcry wild As welcomed to life the...
Page 99 - Now for a little while a child, and now An amorous youth ; then for a season turned Into the wealthy householder ; then stripped Of all his riches, with decrepit limbs And wrinkled frame, man creeps towards the end Of life's erratic course ; and, like an actor, Passes behind Death's curtain out of view l (III.
Page 135 - Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before.
Page 279 - Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.

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