Over the Ocean, Or, Sights and Scenes in Foreign Lands

الغلاف الأمامي
Lee and Shepard, 1874 - 558 من الصفحات
 

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الصفحة 308 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
الصفحة 34 - Not raised in nice proportions was the pile, But large and massy ; for duration built ; "With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld By naked rafters intricately crossed, Like leafless underboughs, in some thick wood, All withered by the depth of shade above.
الصفحة 67 - These fertile plains, that softened vale, Were once the birthright of the Gael; The stranger came with iron hand, And from our fathers reft the land. Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. Ask we...
الصفحة 164 - Here's an acre sown indeed With the richest, royallest seed That the earth did e'er suck in Since the first man died for sin: Here the bones of birth have cried 'Though gods they were, as men they died!
الصفحة 61 - They entered now the chancel tall ; The darkened roof rose high aloof On pillars, lofty, and light, and small ; The key-stone, that locked each ribbed aisle, Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; The corbels ' were carved grotesque and grim ; And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim, With base and with capital flourished around. Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound.
الصفحة 170 - Nobles and heralds, by your leave, Here lies what once was Matthew Prior, The son of Adam and of Eve : Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher ? " But, in this case, the old prejudice got the better of the old joke.
الصفحة 80 - Again ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not, forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths...
الصفحة 171 - Life is a jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it, with what more you may think proper.
الصفحة 78 - Whiles glow'ring round wi' prudent cares, Lest bogles catch him unawares: Kirk-Alloway was drawing nigh, Whare ghaists and houlets nightly cry. By this time he was cross the ford, Whare in the snaw the chapman smoored*; And past the birks* and meikle* stane, Whare drunken Charlie brak's neck-bane; And thro...
الصفحة 277 - O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, Shrunk to this little measure?

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