Waverly Novels: Woodstock. Chronicles of the Canongate: Introductory; The Highland widow. The two drovers. The surgeon's daughter

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R. Cadell, 1846
 

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291 ページ - His eye-balls farther out than when he lived. Staring full ghastly like a strangled man : His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.
261 ページ - A wonderful and horrible thing is committed in the land; The prophets prophesy falsely, and the priests bear rule by their means; and my people love to have it so: and what will ye do in the end thereof (Jer.5:22-31).
312 ページ - Art not thou that Egyptian, which before these days madest an uproar, and leddest out into the wilderness four thousand men that were murderers...
345 ページ - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
228 ページ - Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? I did not err, there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night...
355 ページ - A mother would not keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope.
305 ページ - The king therefore, for her defence, Against the furious queen, At Woodstock builded such a bower, The like was never seen. Most curiously that bower was built Of stone and timber strong, An hundred and fifty doors Did to this bower belong. And they so cunningly contrived With turnings round about, That none but with a clue of thread Could enter in or out.
191 ページ - Were there death in the cup. Here's a health to King Charles ! Though he wanders through dangers, Unaided, unknown, Dependent on strangers, Estranged from his own ; Though 'tis under our breath, Amidst forfeits and perils, Here's to honour and faith, And a health to King Charles...
138 ページ - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch, that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide.
353 ページ - Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed ? Do you hear, let them be well used, for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time : after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.

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