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167. oldal - And portance in my travel's history; Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, — such was the process: And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
350. oldal - And it came to pass in Iconium, that they went both together into the synagogue of the Jews, and so spake, that a great multitude both of the Jews and also of the Greeks believed.
167. oldal - Caora are a nation of people, whose heads appear not above their shoulders; which, though it may be thought a mere fable, yet for mine own part I am resolved it is true, because every child in the provinces of Arromaia and Canuri affirm the same; they are called Ewaipanoma. They are reported to have their eyes in their shoulders, and their mouths in the middle of their breasts, and that a long train of hair groweth backward between their shoulders.
115. oldal - I thank God that I have been enabled to come here this day — to perform my duty, and to speak on a subject which has so deeply impressed my mind. I am old and infirm...
205. oldal - Why dost thou build the hall, son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy towers today; yet a few years, and the blast of the desert comes; it howls in thy empty court, and whistles round thy half-worn shield.
290. oldal - I'LL tell you a story that's not in Tom Moore : — Young Love likes to knock at a pretty girl's door : So he called upon Lucy — 'twas just ten o'clock — Like a spruce single man, with a smart double knock. Now, a handmaid, whatever her fingers be at, Will run like a puss when she hears a rat-tat- : So Lucy ran up — and in two seconds more Had questioned the stranger and answered the door.
360. oldal - River*, that rollest by the ancient walls, ' Where dwells the lady of my love, when she • Walks by thy brink, and there perchance recalls ' A faint and fleeting memory of me ; ' What if thy deep and ample stream should be ' A mirror of my heart, where she may read " The thousand thoughts I now betray to thee.
13. oldal - In every parish is (or was) a church-house, to which belonged spits, crocks, &c., utensils for dressing provision. Here the housekeepers met and were merry, and gave their charity. The young people were there too, and had dancing, bowling, shooting at butts, &c., the ancients sitting gravely by, and looking on. All things were civil, and without scandal.
272. oldal - Restless — and soon to pass away! Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree will mourn its shade, The winds bewail the leafless tree — But none shall breathe a sigh for me! My life is like the prints which feet Have left on Tampa's desert strand; Soon as the rising tide shall beat, All trace will vanish from the sand; Yet, as if grieving to efface All vestige of the human race, On that lone shore loud moans the sea — But none, alas! shall mourn for me!