My Scrapes and Escapes, Or The Adventures of a Student

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Page 141 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?
Page 146 - No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice...
Page 146 - When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak Of one that...
Page 146 - Of one that loved not wisely but too well ; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought Perplex'd in the extreme ; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe ; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum.
Page 38 - twere the cape of a long ridge of such, Save that there was no sea to lave its base, But a most living landscape, and the wave Of woods and cornfields, and the abodes of men Scatter'd at intervals, and wreathing smoke Arising from such rustic roofs ; the hill Was crown'd with a peculiar diadem Of trees, in circular array, so fix'd, Not by the sport of nature, but of man...
Page 148 - No : — life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns ; And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Page 176 - The bird of all birds that I love the best Is the robin that in the churchyard builds its nest; For he seems to watch Kathleen, hops lightly o'er Kathleen, My Kathleen O'More!
Page 145 - All this while he was staring into the empty air behind me — then turning to me, he said with a wan smile, " Ah, she will go. Poor thing, she was always so shy. Hark !— her little one's tiny mournful cry as she carries it away through that outer place there, but that will not much trouble her — her heart is fixed so firmly on another object. It's a pity she has left, but I shall see her to-night at the Woodlands.
Page 117 - His chief resort in the town was the neighbourhood of the theatre. There, about the private stage-door, he would linger day after day, watching the players (great and happy people they !) as they went to, or returned from rehearsal, and making conjectures, from their appearance, which of them was likeliest to be the one that usually played Hamlet. But when he could obtain by any means a shilling, the admission price to the high gallery, was not his happiness complete? There, perched far aloft, he...
Page 294 - Bring him to look me in the face !'' Two of them immediately jumped into the vault and pushed him up through the trap. His hands and feet had been tied, and as they thrust him up into the light, he struggled much to avoid the sharp edges of the stones. As his head and chest appeared through the aperture, and while his eyes were yet blinded with the sudden change from darkness to bright light, Quin rushed to him, and dashed his fist •with his whole force into his face. He fell back with a loud cry...

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