London Society, Volum 34

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William Clowes and Sons, 1878
 

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Passatges populars

Pàgina 244 - O'er a' the ills o' life victorious! But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
Pàgina 511 - Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread, And force a churlish soil for scanty bread; No product here the barren hills afford, But man and steel, the soldier and his sword...
Pàgina 248 - It is not noon— the Sunbow's rays still arch The torrent with the many hues of heaven, And roll the sheeted silver's waving column O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular, And fling its lines of foaming light along, And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, As told in the Apocalypse.
Pàgina 485 - But he could not, you cannot, read the lot of those who daily pass you by in the street. How do you know the wild romances of their lives ; the trials, the temptations they are even now enduring, resisting, sinking under ? You may be elbowed one instant by the girl desperate in her abandonment, laughing in mad merriment with her outward gesture, while her soul is longing for the rest of the dead, and bringing itself to think of the cold-flowing river as the only mercy of God remaining to her here....
Pàgina 511 - No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May ; No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest.
Pàgina 48 - ... suffocating fits: he was attacked several times by them in the course of the preceding month, while he was at his house in Hill Street, Berkeley Square. It happened that he dreamt, three days before his death, that he saw a fluttering bird, and afterwards that a Woman appeared to him in white apparel, and said to him, ' Prepare to die ; you will not exist three days.
Pàgina 444 - And o'er the Simplon, o'er the Splugen winds A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone Flung about carelessly, it shines afar, Catching the eye in many a broken link, In many a turn and traverse as it glides...
Pàgina 453 - Since the 5th of April I had enjoyed ten interviews with M'tesa, and during all I had taken occasion to introduce topics which would lead up to the subject of Christianity. Nothing occurred in my presence but I contrived to turn it toward effecting that which had become an object to me — viz., his conversion.
Pàgina 459 - No, no, no. We will not touch it. It is fetish. You must burn it." "I! Well, let it be so. I will do anything to please my good friends of Mowa.
Pàgina 459 - ... will dry up. What have we done to you, that you should wish to kill us ? We have sold you food, and we have brought you wine, each day. Your people are allowed to wander where they please, without trouble. Why is the Mundele' so wicked? We have gathered together to fight you if you do not burn that taratara now before our eyes. If you burn it we go away, and shall be friends as heretofore.

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