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Page 54 - On the demise of a person of eminence, it is confidently averred that he had a hand "open as day to melting charity," and that "take him for all in all, we ne'er shall look upon his like again.
Page 265 - WHEN Ruth was left half desolate, Her Father took another Mate ; And Ruth, not seven years old, A slighted child, at her own will Went wandering over dale and hill, In thoughtless freedom, bold. And she had made a pipe of straw, And music from that pipe could draw Like sounds of winds and floods ; Had built a bower upon the green, As if she from her birth had been An infant of the woods.
Page 264 - My Friend! enough to sorrow you have given, The purposes of wisdom ask no more ; Be wise and chearful ; and no longer read The forms of things with an unworthy eye. She sleeps in the calm earth, and peace is here.
Page 267 - That oaten pipe of hers is mute, Or thrown away; but with a flute Her loneliness she cheers: This flute, made of a hemlock stalk, At evening in his homeward walk The Quantock woodman hears.
Page 221 - COME, gentle Spring, ethereal mildness, come ; And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, While music wakes around, veiled in a shower ' Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
Page 146 - My constant reflections on the inconvenient, or rather injurious rites, introduced by the peculiar practice of Hindoo idolatry, which, more than any other pagan worship, destroys the texture of society, together with compassion for my countrymen, have compelled me to use every possible effort to awaken them from their dream of error: and by making them acquainted with their scriptures, enable them to contemplate with true devotion the unity and omnipresence of Nature's God..
Page 150 - I had thought myself in an ancient castle (a very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic story) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour.
Page 162 - Leviathan, which God of all his works Created hugest that swim the ocean stream : Him, haply, slumbering on the Norway foam The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays...
Page 151 - I completed in less than two months, that one evening I wrote from the time I had drunk my tea, about six o'clock, till half an hour after one in the morning, when my hand and fingers were so weary, that I could not hold the pen to finish the sentence, but left Matilda and Isabella talking, in the middle of a paragraph.
Page 265 - Cased in the unfeeling armour of old time, The lightning, the fierce wind, and trampling waves. Farewell, farewell, the heart that lives alone, Housed in a dream, at distance from the kind ! Such happiness, wherever it be known, Is to be pitied ; for 'tis surely blind. But welcome fortitude, and patient cheer, And frequent sights of what is to be borne ! Such sights, or worse, as are before me here. — Not without hope we suffer and we mourn.