Toil and Trial: A Story of London Life. To which are Added The Iron Rule; and A Story of the West End

Front Cover
A. Hall, Virtue, 1849 - 168 pages

From inside the book

Selected pages

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 70 - Or stroll at setting of the sun. Who toils as every man should toil For fair reward, erect and free : These are the men — The best of men — These are the men we mean to be !
Page 3 - For them the Ceylon diver held his breath, And went all naked to the hungry shark; For them his ears gush'd blood; for them in death The seal on the cold ice with piteous bark Lay full of darts; for them alone did seethe A thousand men in troubles wide and dark : Half-ignorant, they turn'd an easy wheel, That set sharp racks at work, to pinch and peel.
Page 70 - No dread of toil have we or ours ; We know our worth, and weigh our powers ; The more we work the more we win-:; Success to Trade ! Success to Spade ! And to the Corn that's coming in!
Page 147 - And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of men...
Page 158 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Page 61 - ... assurance Of the Godhead hid in Man. Trust me, Truth is still at war, Just as in the hard old time, With a thousand things that are — Births of woe and food for crime : Still to vindicate the right Is a rough and thankless game ; Still the leader in the fight Is the hindmost in the fame. True, the penal fires are out — True, the rack in rust has lain — But the secret burning Doubt And the pangs of Thought remain : True, the mind of Man is free — Free to speak and write at will, But a...
Page 72 - Mated with a squalid savage — what to me were sun or clime! I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time...
Page 76 - but even now Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear, Made tuneable with every sweetest vow; And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear: How chang'd thou art! how pallid, chill, and drear! Give me that voice again, my Porphyro, Those looks immortal, those complainings, dear! Oh leave me not in this eternal woe, For if thou diest, my Love, I know not where to go.
Page 40 - t is society which sins. Look on the bee upon the wing among flowers ; How brave, how bright his life ! Then mark him hived, Cramped, cringing in his self.built, social cell. Thus is it in the world-hive : most where men Lie deep in cities as in drifts — death drifts, Nosing each other like a flock of sheep ; Not knowing and not caring whence nor whither They come or go, so that they fool together.

Bibliographic information