The Reliques of Father Prout

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H. G. Bohn, 1860 - Fraser's magazine - 578 pages

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Page 131 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Page 21 - Whilst we follow them among the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deepest frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits, whilst we are looking for them beneath the arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold ; that they are at the antipodes, and engaged under the frozen serpent of the south.
Page 90 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 423 - LIFE. I MADE a posy, while the day ran by : Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band.
Page 153 - I've heard bells tolling Old Adrian's Mole in, Their thunder rolling From the Vatican, And cymbals glorious Swinging uproarious In the gorgeous turrets Of Notre Dame...
Page 313 - He has visited all Europe, — not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of temples ; not to make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of the curiosity of modern art ; not to collect medals, or collate manuscripts : — but to dive into the depths of dungeons; to plunge into the infection of hospitals; to survey the mansions...
Page 153 - On this I ponder Where'er I wander And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee, — With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Page 150 - Thro' purest crystal gleaming ! Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock ! Chosen leaf Of bard and chief, Old Erin's native Shamrock ! Says Valour, " See, They spring for me, Those leafy gems of morning!" — Says Love, " No, no, " For me they grow, My fragrant path adorning!
Page 125 - Catholic countries about nine months after Lent, than at any other season ; therefore, reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of Popish infants is at least three to one in this kingdom ; and therefore it will have one other collateral advantage, by lessening the number of Papists among us.
Page 21 - No sea but what is vexed by their fisheries. No climate that is not witness to their toils. Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the extent to which it has been pushed by this recent people...

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