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Page 245 - So when four years were wholly finished, She threw her royal robes away. " Make me a cottage in the vale," she said, " Where I may mourn and pray. " Yet pull not down my palace towers, that are So lightly, beautifully built : Perchance I may return with others there When I have purged my guilt.
Page 246 - Oh! but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet. With the sky above my head. And the grass beneath my feet ; For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want And the walk that costs a meal!
Page 141 - I'd touch her neck so warm and white. And I would be the girdle About her dainty, dainty waist, And her heart would beat against me In sorrow and in rest : And I should know if it beat right, I'd clasp it round so close and tight. And I would be the necklace...
Page 467 - I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man.
Page 430 - I might as well attempt to gather up the foam of the sea as to convey an idea of the extraordinary language in which he clothed his description. There were, at least, five words in every sentence that must have been very much astonished at the use they were put to, and yet no others, apparently, could so well have conveyed his idea. He talked like a racehorse approaching the winning-post, — every muscle in action, and the utmost energy of expression flung out in every burst.
Page 245 - A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand; Left on the shore; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white.
Page 432 - Cardinal de Retz — the Life of Richelieu— everything about Napoleon : read works of that kind. Strelamb shall prepare you a list. Read no history, nothing but biography, for that is life without theory.
Page 29 - It is the land that freemen till, That sober-suited Freedom chose, The land, where girt with friends or foes A man may speak the thing he will...