Westward Ho!: The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Burrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty Queen Elizabeth, Volume 1

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Ticknor and Fields, 1855 - English fiction - 588 pages

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Page 74 - And portance in my travel's history; Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, — such was the process: And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
Page 313 - The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark.
Page 328 - Who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions. Quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.
Page 39 - Four corners to my bed ; Four angels round my head ; Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Bless the bed that I lie on.
Page 411 - Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence; ripen, fall and cease: Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.
Page 396 - Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
Page 1 - ... deep oak woods, through which juts here and there a crag of fern-fringed slate ; below they lower, and open more and more in softly-rounded knolls, and fertile squares of red and green, till they sink into the wide expanse of hazy flats, rich salt marshes, and rolling sand hills, where Torridge joins her sister Taw, and both together flow quietly toward the broad surges of the bar, and the everlasting thunder of the long Atlantic swell.
Page 386 - is indeed the proudest day of my life! I have lost one brother, but I have gained fourscore.
Page 510 - The Daughter of Debate, that eke discord doth sow, Shall reap no gain where former rule hath taught still peace to grow No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port; Our realm it brooks no stranger's force, let them elsewhere resort. Our rusty sword with rest shall first his edge employ, To poll their tops that seek such change and gape for joy.
Page 262 - We are as near to heaven by sea as by land' — reiterating the same speech, well beseeming a soldier, resolute in Jesus Christ, as I can testify he was.

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