Marriage, Volumes 1-2

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Little, Brown, & Company, 1893 - English fiction
 

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Page 118 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Page 143 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die.
Page 146 - ... full glory, either at the rising or setting of it, he would be so transported and amazed, and so admire the glory of it, that he would not willingly turn his eyes from that first ravishing object, to behold all the other various beauties this world could present to him.
Page 221 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Page 274 - They say, miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern- and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
Page 51 - Thus saith the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches : but let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth Me, that I am the Lord which exercise lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness, in the earth : for in these things I delight, saith the Lord.
Page 258 - As it slipped through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed ; So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 12 - I retire from the field, conscious that there remains behind not only a large harvest, but labourers capable of gathering it in. More than one writer has of late displayed talents of this description ; and if the present author, himself a phantom, may be permitted .to distinguish a brother, or perhaps a sister shadow, he would mention, in particular, the author of the very lively work, entitled
Page 209 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Page 309 - My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go ! Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birthplace of valour, the country of worth ; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow ; Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods ; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.

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