Once a Week, Volume 2; Volume 15

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Eneas Sweetland Dallas
Bradbury and Evans, 1866 - England

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Page 44 - Go — you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay.
Page 363 - As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for comedy and tragedy among the Latines, so Shakespeare among the English is the most excellent in both kinds for the stage...
Page 178 - There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.
Page 86 - I slept, and dreamed that life was beauty; I woke, and found that life was duty. Was thy dream then a shadowy lie? Toil on, sad heart, courageously, And thou shalt find thy dream to be A noonday light and truth to thee...
Page 251 - Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new : That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do...
Page 230 - BELSHAZZAR the king made a great feast to a thousand of his lords, and drank wine before the thousand. Belshazzar, whiles he tasted the wine, commanded to bring the golden and silver vessels which his father Nebuchadnezzar had taken out of the temple which was in Jerusalem; that the king, and his princes, his wives, and his concubines, might drink therein.
Page 444 - Sir . . . Dayrell, of Littlecote, in Corn. Wilts, having gott his lady's waiting-woman with child, when her travell came, sent a servant with a horse for a midwife, whom he was to bring hoodwinked. She was brought, and layd the woman, but as soon as the child was...
Page 210 - Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people, All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures ; Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction.
Page 417 - Thou cheerful Bee ! come, freely come, And travel round my woodbine bower ! Delight me with thy wandering hum, And rouse me from my musing hour ; Oh ! try no more those tedious fields, Come taste the sweets my garden yields : The treasures of each blooming mine, The bud, the blossom, — all are thine.
Page 201 - Be ye certain all seems love, Viewed from Allah's throne above; Be ye stout of heart, and come Bravely onward to your home! La Allah ilia Allah!

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