Philip van Artevelde, a dramatic romance

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Page xvi - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 294 - Also because there be some, that taking pleasure in contemplating their own power in the acts of conquest, wh'ich they pursue farther than their security requires ; if others, that otherwise would be glad to be at ease within modest bounds, should not by invasion increase their power, they would not be able, long time, by standing only on their defence, to subsist. And by consequence, such augmentation of dominion over men being necessary to a man's conservation, it ought to be allowed him.
Page 297 - It was not the mere crackling of thorns, a sudden blaze of the spirits, the exultation of a tickled fancy, or a pleased appetite. Joy was then a masculine and a severe thing : the recreation of the judgment, the jubilee of reason. It was the result of a real good suitably applied. It commenced upon the solidities of truth, and the substance of fruition.
Page xxvii - ... no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account of time; no arts; no letters; no society; and, which is worst of all, continual fear, and danger of violent death ; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
Page 92 - He look'd again upon the children's couch, And said, low down, they wanted nothing now. So, to turn off his eyes, I drew the small survivor of the three Before him, and he snatched it up, and soon Seemed quite forgetful and absorbed. With that I stole away.
Page 21 - Here on the doorstead of my father's house, The blood of his they spilt is seen no more. But when I was a child I saw it there ; For so long as my widow-mother lived Water came never near the sanguine stain. She loved to show it me, and then with awe, — But hoarding still the purpose of revenge, I heard the tale — which, like a daily prayer Repeated, to a rooted feeling grew — How long he fought, how falsely came like friends The villains Guisebert Grutt and Simon Bette, — All the base murder...
Page 229 - QUOTH tongue of neither maid nor wife To heart of neither wife nor maid, Lead we not here a jolly life Betwixt the shine and shade ? Quoth heart of neither maid nor wife To tongue of neither wife nor maid, Thou wagg'st, but I am worn with strife, And feel like flowers that fade.
Page 16 - sa prodigy. Compute the chances, And deem there's ne'er a one in dangerous times Who wins the race of glory, but than him A thousand men more gloriously endowed Have fallen upon the course...
Page 21 - We figure to ourselves The thing we like, and then we build it up As chance will have it, on the rock or sand : For thought is tired of wandering o'er the world, And home-bound fancy runs her bark ashore.
Page 65 - Sirs ! look round you lest ye be deceived ; Forgiveness may be spoken with the tongue, Forgiveness may be written with the pen, But think not that the parchment and mouth pardon Will e'er eject old hatreds from the heart.

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