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asked beautiful become bring called carried cause close coming course death doubt effect English eyes face fact feel followed force French girl give Government hand head heart hope hour human idea India interest Italy keep kind King knew land late least leave less letter light lived look Lord matter means ment Michael mind mother moved Nanna nature never night once party passed perhaps picture play political present question reason round seemed seen sense side Silver speak stand stood story tell things thou thought tion told took turned voice whole woman women young
117. oldal - So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can.
58. oldal - And bade me creep past. No ! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
363. oldal - Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night : It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden ; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Ere one can say — It lightens.
364. oldal - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
23. oldal - I am as sorry as if the original fault had been my fault, because myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes: besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his art.
714. oldal - Advocate MacKenyie, who, for his worldly wit and wisdom had been to the rest as a god. And there was Claverhouse, as beautiful as when he lived, with his long, dark, curled locks streaming down over his laced buffcoat, and his left hand always on his right spuleblade, to hide the wound that the silver bullet had made.
373. oldal - I hear of poets' fury* tell, But (God wot) wot not what they mean by it: And this I swear by blackest brook of hell, I am no pick-purse of another's wit. How falls it then, that with so smooth an ease My thoughts I speak, and what I speak doth flow In verse, and that my verse best wits doth please? Guess we the cause: "What, is it thus?
714. oldal - And mony, mony mair were coming and ganging, a' as busy in their vocation as if they had been alive. Sir Robert Redgauntlet, in the midst of a' this fearful riot, cried, wi' a voice like thunder, on Steenie Piper to come to the board-head where he was sitting, his legs stretched out before him, and swathed up with flannel, with his holster pistols aside him, while the great broadsword rested against...
714. oldal - There was the fierce Middleton, and the dissolute Rothes, and the crafty Lauderdale; and Dalyell, with his bald head and a beard to his girdle; and Earlshall, with Cameron's blude on his hand; and wild Bonshaw, that tied blessed Mr. Cargill's limbs till the blude sprung; and Dumbarton Douglas, the twiceturned traitor baith to country and king.
708. oldal - I am wishing ill to little Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be born — God forbid, and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father ! — And now, ride e'en your ways ; for these are the last words ye'll ever hear Meg Merrilies speak, and this is the last reise that I'll ever cut in the bonny woods of Ellangowan.