Waverley Novels ...: Ivanhoe

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Black, 1853

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الصفحة 140 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
الصفحة 254 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, As modest stillness, and humility : But when the blast of war...
الصفحة 25 - Hundreds of broad-headed, shortstemmed, wide-branched oaks, which had witnessed perhaps the stately march of the Roman soldiery, flung their gnarled arms over a thick carpet of the most delicious greensward ; in some places they were intermingled with beeches, hollies, and copsewood of various descriptions, so closely as totally to intercept the level beams of the sinking sun...
الصفحة 243 - Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly: then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness — "But no — but no!
الصفحة 245 - all about him is black as the wing of the night raven. Nothing can I spy that can mark him further — but having once seen him put forth his strength in battle, methinks I could know him again among a thousand warriors. He rushes to the fray as if he were summoned to a banquet. There is more than mere strength, there seems as if the whole soul and spirit of the champion were given to every blow which he deals upon his enemies. God assoilzie him of the sin of bloodshed I — it is fearful, yet magnificent,...
الصفحة 127 - A child of seven years old," he said, " might hit yonder target with a headless shaft ; but," added he, walking deliberately to the other end of the lists, and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground, " he that hits that rod at fivescore yards, I call him an archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, an it were the stout King Richard himself.
الصفحة 23 - IN that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleasant town of Doncaster.
الصفحة 243 - I see him not," said Rebecca. "Foul craven!" exclaimed Ivanhoe: "does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?
الصفحة 287 - I'll tell thee what, my friend, He is a very serpent in my way ; And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, He lies before me : dost thou understand me ? Thou art his keeper.
الصفحة 329 - And oh, when stoops on Judah's path In shade and storm the frequent night, Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light.

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