Among strangers

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E. S. Maine
Smith, Elder & Company, 1870 - 302 pages

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Page 266 - tis true I have gone here and there And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new.
Page 103 - Who breaks his birth's invidious bar, And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance, And grapples with his evil star; Who makes by force his merit known And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne; And moving up from high to higher, Becomes on Fortune's crowning...
Page 33 - Two children in two neighbour villages Playing mad pranks along the heathy leas ; Two strangers meeting at a festival ; Two lovers whispering by an orchard wall ; Two lives bound fast in one with golden ease ; Two graves...
Page 169 - The silver key of the fountain of tears, Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild ; Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child, Is laid asleep in flowers.
Page 142 - Come back, come back ; and whither back or why ? To fan quenched hopes, forsaken schemes to try; Walk the old fields ; pace the familiar street ; Dream with the idlers, with the bards compete. Come back, come back. Come back, come back...
Page 86 - Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away!
Page 50 - What's Montague? it is nor hand , nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man.
Page 179 - Oh dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray— 'O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway.
Page 76 - Blow, ye winds ! lift me with you ! I come to the wild. Fold closely, O Nature! Thine arms round thy child. To thee only God granted A heart ever new — To all always open, To all always true.
Page 244 - Yet can it not be then denied, It is as certain as thy creed, Thy great unhap thou canst not hide ; Unhappy then ! why art thou not dead? ' Unhappy ; but no wretch therefore ! For hap doth come again, and go, For which I keep myself in store ; Since unhap cannot kill me so.

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