Tales of the priory, Volume 3

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Page 246 - ... not an open enemy, that hath done me this dishonour : for then I could have borne it.
Page 249 - Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Page 102 - O never, never turn away thine ear ! Forlorn, in this bleak wilderness below, Ah ! what were man, should Heaven refuse to hear! To others do (the law is not severe) What to thyself thou wishest to be done. Forgive thy foes ; and love thy parents dear, And friends, and native land ; nor those alone ; All human weal and woe learn thou to make thine own.
Page 194 - An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labour, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven!
Page 244 - Sore pierced by wintry winds, How many shrink into the sordid hut Of cheerless poverty. How many shake With all the fiercer tortures of the mind, Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse; Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life, They furnish matter for the tragic Muse.
Page 234 - Venetian siege, had been a temple, a church, .and a mosque. In each point of view it is an object of regard ; it changed its worshippers ; but still it was a place of worship thrice sacred to devotion : its violation is a triple sacrilege. But " Man, vain man, " Brest in a little brief authority, " Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
Page 153 - ... to thy poor mother's sighs, With curious looks and innocent surprise; Thy father dying, thou, my virtuous boy, My comfort always, waked my soul to j'oy ; With the poor remnant of our fortune left, Thou hast our station of its gloom bereft: Thy lively temper, and thy cheerful air...
Page 244 - How many feel, this very moment, death, And all the sad varieties of pain !" " How many Rachels are now weeping for their children, and will not be comforted, because they are not?
Page 62 - ... Humphries left the room, William appeared, and the very sight of him soothed the irritation his master had so lately felt, while every kindlier sensation came over his breast, as the boy, spreading a clean napkin over the little round table, placed upon it a basin of gruel, thin toast, a pat of butter, and, finally, a nutmeg and a bottle of sherry, in the same way he had so often done it in former times. Mr. Thorncliffe mixed the gruel mechanically, but when he tasted it, exclaimed, *« bless,...

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