Waverly Novels, Volume 21

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Ticknor and Fields, 1864
 

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Page 192 - Sir this is a busy day with us, we cannot hear you, it is Robin Hood's day. The parish are gone abroad to gather for Robin Hood. I pray you let them not.
Page 226 - They crossed the moat, and Christabel Took the key that fitted well ; A little door she opened straight, All in the middle of the gate ; The gate that was ironed within and without, Where an army in battle array had marched out. The lady sank, belike through pain, And Christabel with might and main...
Page 226 - So free from danger, free from fear, They cross'd the court : right glad they were. And Christabel devoutly cried To the lady by her side ; ' Praise we the Virgin all divine Who hath rescued thee from thy distress!' 'Alas, alas!' said Geraldine, ' I cannot speak for weariness.
Page 238 - Edina! Scotia's darling seat, All hail thy palaces and towers, Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, Sate legislation's sovereign powers! BURNS. '/ | 'THIS, then,* is Edinburgh?
Page 192 - I tooke my horse and my company, and went thither (I thought I should have found a great company in the church), and when I came there the church doore was fast locked.
Page 192 - The church stood in my way, and I took my horse and my company and went thither. I thought I should have found a great company in the church, and when I came there the church door was fast locked.
Page 205 - As when in tumults rise the ignoble crowd, Mad are their motions and their tongues are loud ; And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, And all the rustic arms that fury can supply. If then some grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise and lend a listening ear ; He soothes with sober words their angry mood, And quenches their innate desire of blood.
Page 273 - He might have braved with indifference the presence of an earl, merely distinguished by his belt and coronet ; but he felt overawed in that of the eminent soldier and statesman, the wielder of a nation's power, and the leader of her armies.
Page 226 - All in the middle of the gate ; The gate that was ironed within and without, Where an army in battle array had marched out. The lady sank, belike through pain, And Christabel with might and main Lifted her up, a weary weight, Over the threshold of the gate : Then the lady rose again, And moved, as she were not in pain.

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