Govinda Sámanta: Or The History of a Bengal Ráiyat, Volume 2

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Macmillan and Company, 1874
 

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Page 205 - Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant, for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted. Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets, your cane affords.
Page 174 - It is better to dwell in the wilderness than with a contentious and angry woman.
Page 30 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round.
Page 220 - For why ? — because the good old rule Sufficeth them, the simple plan, That they should take, who have the power, And they should keep who can.
Page 1 - Why, Sir, if you were to read Richardson for the story, your impatience would be so much fretted that you would hang yourself. But you must read him for the sentiment, and consider the story as only giving occasion to the sentiment.
Page 93 - As it slipp'd through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed; So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 172 - Make enemies of nations who had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one. Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys...
Page 97 - For he was of that noble trade That demi-gods and heroes made, Slaughter, and knocking on the head, The trade to which they all were bred; And is, like others, glorious when 3*5 'Tis great and large, but base, if mean : The former rides in triumph for it.
Page 29 - And all the village (vain, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree ; While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old survey 'd ; And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round...
Page 71 - Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay. With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way: O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love.

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