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Page 231 - may henceforth most offend Our enemy, our own loss how repair ; How overcome this dire calamity ; What reinforcement we may gain from hope ; If not, what resolution from despair." There are, however, one or two points touched on by the Count de Montholon, upon which I shall hazard a few words. He tells us that,
Page 92 - Be great in act, as you have been in thought ; Be stirring as the time ; be fire with fire ; Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution.'
Page 559 - isles of Greece, the isles of Greece I Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace,— Where Délos rose and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all except their sun is set."—BYRON.
Page 512 - The sails were filled and fair the light winds blew, As glad to waft him from his native home ; And fast the white rocks faded from his view And soon were lost in circumambient foam, And then, it may be, of his wish to roam The silent thought, nor from his lips did come
Page 207 - The poor condemned English, Like sacrifices, by their watchful fires Sit patiently, and inly ruminate The morning's danger ; and their gesture sad, Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats, Presented them unto the gazing moon So many horrid
Page 568 - their fisheries in the Pacific Ocean, or in the South seas ; or in landing on the coasts of those seas, in places not already occupied, for the purpose of carrying on their commerce with the natives of the country or of making settlements there.
Page 205 - Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. Too much to know is to know nought but fame, And every godfather can give a name.
Page 564 - I'll give thrice so much land To any well-deserving friend ; But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a
Page 208 - Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen. Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head : Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood.
Page 507 - Tis merry, 'tis merry in good green wood, When the mavis and merle are singing, When the deer pass by, the hounds are in cry Ami the hunter's horn is ringing." On our way to the " runways," we were met by three " loafish " looking blades, the chief of whom was Billy Blackaby, an idle