Horse Shoe Robinson: A Tale of the Tory Ascendency, Volume 2

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Page 121 - The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Page 107 - Woe to the English soldiery That little dread us near! On them shall light at midnight A strange and sudden fear: When, waking to their tents on fire, They grasp their arms in vain, And they who stand to face us Are beat to earth again...
Page 199 - Christ ! it was a grief to see, And likewise for to hear, The cries of men lying in their gore, And scattered here and there. At last these two stout...
Page 119 - Mary," said John Ramsay, waking up under the touch of his mistress, and rising to his feet, " I deserve to be shot for sleeping on my watch ; but I have been so driven from post to pillar for this last fortnight, that it is as much as I can do to keep my eyes open when night comes on. So Mary, you will forgive me, and more particularly when I tell you I was dreaming of you ; and thought this war was at an end, and that you and I were happy in a house of our own. I have been waiting for you for upwards...
Page 30 - Cornwallis, who, it was conjectured, would use them to oreak up every remnant of opposition in this region. It was therefore a matter of great importance to Williams, to conduct his little force into some place of security against the attacks of the royalists. Colonel Elijah Clarke had, ever since the fall of Charleston, been employed in keeping together the few scattered Whig families in that part of Carolina lying contiguous to the Savannah, with a view to an organized plan of resistance against...
Page 76 - Please say to your good mother, that I am twice your age, and will take as much care of you as if you were my own daughter. I feel assured she will waive all ceremony when she thinks of how warm a greeting awaits you.
Page 119 - Like a gust of the summer wind ; Her steps were light, her breath was hush'd, And she dared not look behind. She pass'd by stealth the narrow door, The postern way also, And thought each bush her robe that tore, The grasp of a warding foe. And sJiŁ has climb' d the moat so steep, With chilly dread and fear ; While th' evening Jly humm'd dull and deep, Like a wardman whisp'ring near.

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