Guy Mannering, Volume 1

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Ticknor and Fields, 1857

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Page 78 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain. Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and wat'ry depths; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason!
Page 135 - His eye-balls farther out than when he lived. Staring full ghastly like a strangled man : His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.
Page 106 - Many murders have been discovered among them ; and they are not only a most unspeakable oppression to poor tenants, (who, if they give not bread, or some kind of provision to perhaps forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them,) but they rob many poor people who live in houses distant from any neighborhood.
Page 98 - With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Page 186 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Page 87 - Twist ye, twine ye ! even so Mingle shades of joy and woe, Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife, In the thread of human life. While the mystic twist is spinning, And the infant's life beginning, Dimly seen through twilight bending, Lo, what varied shapes attending ! Passions wild, and Follies vain, Pleasures soon exchanged for pain ; Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear, In the magic dance appear. Now they wax, and now they dwindle. Whirling with the whirling spindle. Twist ye, twine ye ! even so Mingle...
Page 297 - Nor board nor garner own we now, Nor roof nor latched door. Nor kind mate, bound, by holy vow, To bless a good man's store. Noon lulls us in a gloomy den, And night is grown our day; Uprouse ye, then, my merry men! And use it as ye may.
Page 120 - ... to sleep with the tod and the blackcock in the muirs ! — Ride your ways, Ellangowan. — Our bairns are hinging at our weary backs — look that your braw cradle at hame be the fairer spread up— not that I am wishing ill to little Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be born — God forbid — and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father ! — And now, ride e'en your ways ; for these are the last words ye'll ever hear Meg Merrilies speak, and this is the last reise that...
Page 177 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?
Page 120 - Bertram ; what do ye glower after our folk for ? There's thirty hearts there that wad hae wanted bread ere ye had wanted sunkets, and spent their life-blood ere ye had scratched your finger. Yes ; there's thirty yonder, from the auld wife of an hundred to the babe that was born last week, that ye have turned out o' their bits o' bields, to sleep with the tod and the black-cock in the muirs ! Ride your ways, Ellangowan.

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