London Society, Volume 51

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William Clowes and Sons, 1887
 

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Page 268 - ... if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart which now lies cold and still beneath thy feet — then be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back upon thy memory, and knocking dolefully at thy soul...
Page 59 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Page 63 - That never feel a stupor, know no pause, Nor need one ; I am conscious, and confess, Fearless, a soul that does not always think. Me oft has Fancy, ludicrous and wild, Soothed with a waking dream of houses, towers, Trees, churches, and strange visages, express'd In the red cinders, while with poring eye I gazed, myself creating what I saw.
Page 63 - The sooty films, that play upon the bars Pendulous, and foreboding in the view Of superstition, prophesying still, Though still deceived, some stranger's near approach.
Page 29 - I own'd that it might be possible ; had he only used a trembling and broken Voice, and had only an extreme Weakness possessed his Body, because I conceived...
Page 3 - Seest thou a man wise in his own conceit? there is more hope of a fool than of him.
Page 592 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow?
Page 102 - ... said Gargantua, the greatest loss of time that I know, is to count the hours. What good comes of it? Nor can there be any greater dotage in the world than for one to guide and direct his courses by the sound of a bell, and not by his own judgment and discretion.
Page 237 - I'll wish you in silence to love me. We'll look through the trees at the cliff and the eyrie ; We'll tread round the rath on the track of the fairy ; We'll look on the stars, and we'll list to the river, Till you ask of your darling what gift you can give her.
Page 38 - Although thy breath be rude. Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot : Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! &c.

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