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Abencerrages Abenhamet adverb Alamar Almanzor Anna appeared arms arrived beautiful blood Boabdil cęsura called Captain cause character Chouannerie Chouans Clara cried D'Arthon dark daugh death door Duke Duke of Berri earth enemy Espaing Estagel Evan eyes face father fear feel feet followed Froissart give Gonsalvo Granada hand happy head heard heart heaven hero honor hope horse human King ladies land leave light live look Lord Madame Maggie ment Messire mind Monclova morning mother Mount Vernon mountains never night noble o'er passed philosophy Pierre de Craon present queen replied republicans Saltillo seemed Sire smile soon soul spirit sweet tain tears thee thing thou thought tion took truth turned Vendeans Viscount voice wind wish woman words young Zegris Zoraida Zulema
Page 575 - Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide; If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.
Page 578 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness, This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 388 - Would he give us talents that are not to be exerted? capacities that are never to be gratified? How can we find that wisdom which shines through all his works, in the formation of man, without looking on this world as only a nursery...
Page 578 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Page 517 - ... that it swam upon or near the surface, arching back its long neck like the swan, and occasionally darting it down at the fish which happened to float within its reach...
Page 554 - Father!" at length he murmured low, and wept like childhood then; Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men! He thought on all his glorious hopes, and all his young renown ; He flung the falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down.
Page 556 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Page 578 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Page 58 - The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee, thou that dwellest in the clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high; that saith in his heart, "Who shall bring me down to the ground?" Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee down, saith the Lord.