Waverley Novels, Volume 3

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Robert Cadell, Edinburgh, and Whittaker & Company London., 1829

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Page 32 - Tlie 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 watery depths; all these have vanished ; They live no longer in the faith of reason. But still the heart doth need a language, still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names...
Page 65 - 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 neighbourhood. In years of plenty...
Page 10 - Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours. See, how this river comes me cranking in, And cuts me, from the best of all my land, A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.
Page 42 - 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.
Page 154 - 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 33 - ... the faith of reason ! But still the heart doth need a language ; still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend ; and to the lover Yonder they move ; from yonder visible sky Shoot influence down ; and even at this day 'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great, And Venus who brings every thing that's fair.
Page 144 - 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 ? With the years beyond the flood. It is the signal that demands despatch : How much is to be done? My hopes and fears Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? a fathomless abyss...
Page 55 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modem instances; And so he plays his part.
Page 80 - Ye may stable your stirks in the shealings at Derncleugh — see that the hare does not couch on the hearthstane at Ellangowan. — Ride your ways, Godfrey 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 a hundred to the babe that was born last week, that ye have turned out o
Page 300 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted ; But yet...

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