John Randolph, of Roanoke, and Other Sketches of Character, Including William Wirt: Together with Tales of Real Life

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A. Hart, late Carey and Hart, 1853 - United States - 375 pages

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Page 19 - FROM distant climes, o'er wide-spread seas we come, Though not with much eclat, or beat of drum; True patriots all, for, be it understood, We left our country for our country's good...
Page 300 - And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works — He must delight in virtue; And that which He delights in must be happy.
Page 174 - Where Angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Page 43 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Page 63 - Oh, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ? The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, Oh, how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven 10 These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy...
Page 200 - The world recedes ; it disappears ! Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears With sounds seraphic ring : Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! 0 Grave ! where is thy victory? 0 Death! where is thy sting?
Page 174 - Sublime," He deigned not to belie his soul in songs, Nor turn his very talent to a crime; He did not loathe the Sire to laud the Son, But closed the tyrant-hater he begun.
Page 39 - whose seat is the bosom of God, and whose voice is the harmony of the world...
Page 175 - Think'st thou, could he, the blind old man, arise Like Samuel from the grave to freeze once more The blood of monarchs with his prophecies, Or be alive again — again all hoar With time and trials, and those helpless eyes And heartless daughters — worn and pale and poor, Would he adore a sultan? He obey The intellectual eunuch Castlereagh?
Page 66 - One can fancy them fitted for the days of old, when knights carved at the meal in gloves of steel and drank the red wine through the helmet barred...

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