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Adelinde ancient anon ARTHUR EDWARD WAITE Asmodeus awful beautiful behold believe BENJAMIN SWIFT Brahmins Breitmann Caesar century Charles Godfrey Leland cried Crow devil divine docet dream drink earth earthly emperor eternal Etruscan eyes fain fairy fool glory goblin gods gold golden hath heard heart hell holy honour human ideal immortal inquired Flaxius Jezebel Julian kind king lady learned legend live looked magic marvellous master mighty mind miracle Miss Jesabelle Miss Rockhard mortal mystery nature never Oakford Odin once passed Pluto poetry Puttuli religion remarked replied Flaxius rose sage sang secret seemed Shelta sing smile song sorcerer soul spirit strange stupendous sweet thee things thou art thou hast thousand Tinia tongue tower true Truly truth UNIVERSITY OF WITTENBERG unto Vishnu voice ween Were-wolf wild wilt wine wisdom witch wondrous word
Page 234 - And he lifted up his face to the window, and said, Who is on my side ? who ? And there looked out to him two or three eunuchs.
Page 239 - I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
Page 1 - There is no policy like politeness: and a good manner is the best thing in the world, either to get one a good name or to supply the want of it.
Page 257 - THERE is a Thorn — it looks so old, In truth, you'd find it hard to say How it could ever have been young, It looks so old and grey. Not higher than a two years...
Page 186 - With that new blissful golden melody. A living death was in each gush of sounds, Each family of rapturous hurried notes, That fell, one after one, yet all at once, Like pearl beads dropping sudden from their string: And then another, then another strain...
Page 106 - Wrath and threatening are invariably mingled with the love; and in the utmost solitudes of nature, the existence of Hell seems to me as legibly declared by a thousand spiritual utterances, as that of Heaven.
Page 26 - It is not all of life to live, nor all of death to die.
Page 111 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Page 181 - Or is it that imagination brought Beyond its proper bound, yet still confined, Lost in a sort of purgatory blind, Cannot refer to any standard law Of either earth or heaven? It is a flaw In happiness, to see beyond our bourne It forces us in summer skies to mourn; It spoils the singing of the nightingale.