A Catalogue of the National Gallery of British Art at South Kensington: With a Supplement Containing Works by Modern Foreign Artists and Old Masters

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Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1893 - Artists
 

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Page 47 - Over thy decent shoulders drawn. Come, but keep thy wonted state, With even step and musing gait And looks commercing with the skies, Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes...
Page 86 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
Page 124 - ... away. Then might all people well discern the bottles he had slung — A bottle swinging at each side, as hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, up flew the windows all; And every soul cried out, "Well done!
Page 17 - d have you do it ever : when you sing, I 'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms; Pray so ; and for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : when you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own No other function.
Page 96 - I WAS ever of opinion, that the honest man who married, and brought up a large family, did more service than he who continued single, and only talked of population. From this motive, I had...
Page 47 - He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the LORD; and that which he hath given will he pay him again.
Page 109 - There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them...
Page 90 - AM half distracted, Captain Shandy, said Mrs Wadman, holding up her cambric handkerchief to her left eye, as she approached the door of my uncle Toby's sentry-box; a mote, — or sand,— or something, — I know not what, has got into this eye of mine; — do look into it — it is not in the white.
Page 123 - ... resounds aloud; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow. Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou'll get thy fairin! In hell they'll roast thee like a herrin! In vain thy Kate awaits thy comin! Kate soon will be a woefu
Page 137 - Shall I, like a fool, quoth he, For a haughty hizzie die ? She may gae to — France for me ! Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

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