Jacob Faithful

Első borító
Mardoch, 1842 - 394 oldal
 

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235. oldal - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
92. oldal - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee.
90. oldal - Then are they glad, because they are at rest : and so he bringeth them unto the haven where they would be.
220. oldal - OH ! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove ; When my dream of life from morn till night Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream : No, there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.
110. oldal - ... mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
80. oldal - That you be carried from hence to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there to be hanged by the neck till you are dead ; and may the Lord have mercy on your soul...
246. oldal - I to myself, a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse.
341. oldal - Love and liberty's all our own. No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us...
143. oldal - Twas post meridian , half-past four, By signal I from Nancy parted, At five she lingered on the shore, With uplift eyes and broken-hearted." "I calculate you are no fool of a screamer," said the American, shoving off his boat from the barge , and pulling to his vessel. "And I calculate you're no fool of a liar,
104. oldal - All sense of danger's drown'd, We despise it to a man : We sing a little, And laugh a little, And work a little, And swear a little, And fiddle a little, And foot it a little, And swig the flowing can...

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