Pleasant memories of pleasant lands

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J. Munroe and co., 1856 - Great Britain - 395 pages
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Page 88 - I know that all the muse's heavenly lays, With toil of sprite which are so dearly bought, As idle sounds, of few or none are sought, That there is nothing lighter than mere praise.
Page 124 - He repeated this so earnestly that we could not refuse ; his daughters went into his study, opened his writing-desk, and laid paper and pens in the usual order, and I then moved him through the hall and into the spot where he had always been accustomed to work. When the chair was placed at the desk, and he found himself in the old position, he smiled and thanked us, and said — ' Now give me my pen, and leave me for a little to myself.
Page 185 - Jesus' sake, forbeare To dig the dust enclosed here: Blessed be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.
Page 101 - For the Lord will not cast off for ever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.
Page 101 - How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven unto the earth the beauty of Israel, and remembered not his footstool in the day of his anger!
Page 389 - God of our salvation; thou who art the hope of all the ends of the earth, and of those who are afar off upon the sea...
Page 100 - Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, How shall ye flee away and be at rest ? The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Mankind their country — Israel but the grave !
Page 261 - In fix'd and stern array, With buckled helm and bayonet, As on the battle-day. By square, and fountain side, Heads in dense masses rise, And tower and battlement and tree Are studded thick with eyes. Comes there some conqueror home...
Page 261 - ... fountain side, Heads in dense masses rise, And tower, and battlement, and tree, Are studded thick with eyes. Comes there some conqueror home In triumph from the fight, With spoil and captives in his train, The trophies of his might ? The "Arc de Triomphe" glows ! A martial host are nigh, France pours in long succession forth Her pomp of chivalry.
Page 134 - Walter himself, the chief ornament and delight of all those simple meetings — she to whose love I owed my own place in them — Scott's eldest daughter, the one of all his children who in countenance, mind, and manners, most resembled himself, and who indeed was as like him in all things as a gentle innocent woman can ever be to a great man deeply tried and skilled in the struggles and perplexities of active life — she, too, is no more.

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