The death-flag

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Page 285 - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt...
Page 199 - Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern What virtues grow from ignorance and choice, Nor how the hero differs from the brute. But grant that others could with equal glory Look down on pleasures, and the baits of sense...
Page 179 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Page 297 - ... seen above the middle, death is not to be expected for the space of a year, and perhaps some months longer; and as it is frequently seen to ascend higher towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand within a few days, if not hours, as daily experience confirms.
Page 70 - Yet more ! the billows and the depths have more ! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! They hear not now the booming waters roar, The battle-thunders will not break their rest. Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave...
Page 298 - ... levelled with earth and gravel. There were betwixt the trees, growing naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed in the earth, which, with the, trees, were interwoven with ropes, made of heath and birch twigs...
Page 162 - May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high ; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy ; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 254 - Britain, or that he ought not to enjoy the same ; here is the champion, who saith that he lieth, and is a. false traitor, being ready in person to combat with him ; and in this quarrel will adventure his life against him, on what day soever he shall be appointed.
Page 154 - Oh, think what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods! Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death...
Page 66 - Tis therefore I wail him. Long may the curse Of his people pursue them; Scully, that sold him, And soldier that slew him! One glimpse of heaven's light May they see never! May the hearthstone of hell Be their best bed for ever! In the hole which the vile hands Of soldiers...

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