The Last of the Plantagenets: An Historical Romance Illustrating Some of the Public Events, and Domestic and Ecclesiastical Manners, of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, Volume 2

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J & J Harper, 1829
 

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Page 179 - Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon...
Page 179 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers,) And mark'd the mild angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there...
Page 126 - A few short hours, and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies, But not my mother earth. Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall, My dog howls at the gate.
Page 143 - Now the winged people of the sky shall sing My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring ; A prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass, In which I will adore sweet virtue's face. Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace cares, No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears...
Page 126 - ... sacrament publicly, and appointed an eloquent and devout friar to preach a sermon of contempt of the world, and of the happiness and benefit of a quiet and contemplative life, which the friar did most affectionately. After which sermon, the Emperor took occasion to declare openly, " that the preacher had begot in him a resolution to lay down his dignities, and to forsake the world, and betake himself to a monastical life.
Page 99 - Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.
Page 18 - Dalmatia, Poland, where not, sir? I have been a poor servitor by sea and land any time this fourteen years, and followed the fortunes of the best commanders in Christendom. I was twice, shot at the taking of Aleppo, once at the relief of Vienna; I have been at Marseilles, Naples, and the Adriatic...
Page 160 - Oh Death ! where is thy sting ? Oh Grave ! where is thy victory ? The sting of Death is sin, and the strength of sin is the Law.
Page 158 - YET do I live! O how shall I sustain This vast unutterable weight of woe ? This worse than hunger, poverty, or pain, Or all the complicated ills below ? She, in whose life my hopes were treasur'd all. Is gone— for ever fled— My dearest Emma's dead ; These eyes, these tear-swoln eyes beheld her fall.
Page 179 - And there shall come a king and confess you religious; and bete you as the Bible telleth, for breaking of your rule. And then shall the abbot of Abingdon and all his issue for ever have a knock of a king and incurable the wound.

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