The story of Alec Drummond, of the 17th lancers, Volume 3;Volume 320


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Página 94 - Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled...
Página 177 - That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I : And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a
Página 47 - And turn poltroons as valiant : For men as resolute appear, With too much as too little fear ; And, when they're out of hopes of flying, Will run away from death by dying ; Or turn again to stand it out, And those they fled, like lions, rout. This...
Página 33 - Believe me, royal youth, thy fruit must be, Or gather'd ripe, or rot upon the tree. Heav'n has to all allotted, soon or late, Some lucky revolution of their fate...
Página 108 - An angel came ! He spoke, and it was done ! He spoke, and at his call a mighty wind, Not like the fitful blast, with fury blind, But deep, majestic, in its destined course, Sprung with unerring, unrelenting force, From the bright east. Tides duly ebbed and flowed, Stars rose and set, and new horizons glowed ; Yet still it blew ! As with primeval sway Still did its ample spirit, night and day, Move on the waters...
Página 213 - Tis poetical and pretty. This is it: When the sun sets, shadows that show'd at noon But small, appear most long and terrible: So when we think fate hovers o'er our heads, Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds: Owls, ravens, crickets, seem the watch of death; Nature's worst vermin scare her godlike sons: Echoes, the very leavings of a voice, Grow babbling ghosts, and call us to our graves. Each mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus; While we...
Página 307 - The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the conceal'd comforts of a man Locked up in woman's love. I scent the air Of blessings, when I come but near the house. What a delicious breath marriage sends forth. The violet bed's not sweeter.
Página 64 - THE SEA THE Sea! the Sea! the open Sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round; It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Página 271 - With respect to Duels, indeed, I have my own ideas. Few things, in this so surprising world, strike me with more surprise. Two little visual Spectra of men, hovering with insecure enough cohesion in the midst of the UNFATHOMABLE, and to dissolve therein, at any rate, very soon, — make pause at the distance of twelve paces asunder; whirl round; and, simultaneously by the cunningest mechanism, explode one another into Dissolution; and off-hand become Air, and Non-extant!
Página 233 - Lo ! she cometh in her beauty, Stately with a Juno grace, Raven locks, Madonna-braided O'er her sweet and blushing face : Eyes of deepest violet, beaming With the love that knows not shame — Lips, that thrill my inmost being With the utterance of a name. And I bend the knee before her, As a captive ought to bow, — Pray thee, listen to my pleading, Sovereign of my soul art thou...

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