The Hawks of Hawk-Hollow

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Ward & Lock, 1856 - 256 pages
 

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Page 26 - And I looked, and behold a pale horse : and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.
Page 130 - Now let them drink till they nod and wink, Even as good fellows should do; They shall not miss to have the bliss Good ale doth bring men to; •And all poor souls that have scoured bowls...
Page 129 - I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare; Both foot and hand go cold ; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
Page 129 - I cannot eat but little meat, My stomach is not good ; But sure I think, that I can drink With him that wears a hood : Though I go bare, take ye no care ; I nothing am a-cold : I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old.
Page 90 - Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home, I was in a better place : but travellers must be content.
Page 176 - Enter Friar and Giovanni. FRIAR. Peace! Thou hast told a tale, whose every word Threatens eternal slaughter to the soul. I'm sorry I have heard it; would mine ears Had been one minute deaf, before the hour That thou cam'st to me. O young man...
Page 103 - Sleep, sleep! the ship has left the shore, The steed awaits his lord no more; His lord still madly lingers by The fatal maid he cannot fly, The Hawks of Hawk-Hollow, Volume 1 And thrids the wood, and climbs the hill, He and the wailing whippoorwill.
Page 39 - I went to the caboose;—and if I hid on the forecastle, as they call it, the sailors run me up a rope and plumped me into the sea; and even the ship-boys tried their hands at me, but I reckon they got as much as they gave. They all beat me but Jackey Jones, an old fellow that had but one eye; and if it had not been for him, I believe they would have killed, or starved, or drowned me among them. One night he was washed overboard: and after that I was beat worse than ever. It was a great storm, goody;...
Page 40 - This," said the merry narrator, "is the very story I had from Elsie's lips, only that she spoiled it in telling; and I leave you to judge whether there was ever a more exquisite young savage in the whole world, than that same Oran Gilbert.
Page 103 - Oh whippoorwill, oh whippoorwill ! Sleep, sleep ! the morrow hastens on ; Then shall the wailing slave be gone, Flitting the hill-top far for fear The sounds of joy may reach his ear; The sounds of joy ! — the hollow knell Pealed from the mocking chapel bell.

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