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Page 159 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom— Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon ! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar; for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard! — May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Page 227 - SO now is come our joyful'st feast; Let every man be jolly, Each room with ivy leaves is drest, And every post with holly. Though some churls at our mirth repine, Round your foreheads garlands twine, Drown sorrow in a cup of wine, And let us all be merry. Now, all our neighbours...
Page 483 - ROCK of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee ! Let the water and the blood, From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
Page 125 - It is not too much to say that the administration of criminal law in this country is a disgrace to our civilization and that the prevalence of crime and fraud, which here is greatly in excess of that in European countries, is due largely to the failure of the law and its administration to bring criminals to justice.
Page 349 - The holly hitherto did sway, Let box now domineer, Until the dancing Easter day Or Easter's eve appear. The youthful box, which now hath grace Your houses to renew, Grown old, surrender must his place Unto the crisped yew.
Page 308 - Crowns may flourish and decay, Beauties shine, but fade away. Youth may revel, yet it must Lie down in a bed of dust.
Page 345 - It shall not be lawful for any person appointed after the first day of June, one thousand eight hundred and seventy-two, as an officer, clerk, or employee in any of the Departments, to act as counsel, attorney, or agent for prosecuting any claim against the United States which was pending in either of said Departments while he was such officer, clerk, or employee...
Page 227 - Now, all our neighbours' chimneys smoke, And Christmas blocks are burning; Their ovens they with baked meats choke, And all their spits are turning. Without the door let sorrow lie ; And if for cold it hap to die, We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie, And evermore be merry.
Page 349 - Then youthfull box which now hath grace, Your houses to renew ; Grown old, surrender must his place, Unto the crisped yew. When yew is out, then birch comes in, And many flowers beside ; Both of a fresh, and fragrant kinne To honour Whitsontide. Green rushes then, and sweetest bents, With cooler oken boughs ; Come in for comely ornaments, To re-adorn the house.
Page 305 - The above facts, which I have no wish to unduly emphasise, and which I give with due reserve, are the staple of current conversation in certain circles here, and I should be failing in my duty if I did not bring them to the attention of the British public.