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Oxford University Press, 1895
 

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Side 6 - His sons come to honour, and he knoweth it not; and they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them.
Side 354 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Side 18 - Pierced thro' the mystic dome, Regions of lucid matter taking forms, Brushes of fire, hazy gleams, Clusters and beds of worlds, and bee-like swarms Of suns, and starry streams.
Side 367 - ... unto them; whereas they weariedly left a languishing corpse, and with faint desires of reunion. If they fell by long and aged decay, yet wrapt up in the bundle of time, they fall into indistinction, and make but one blot with infants. If we begin to die when we live, and long life be but a prolongation of death, our life is a sad composition ; we live with death, and die not in a moment. How many pulses made up the life of Methuselah, were work for Archimedes: common counters sum up the life...
Side 162 - They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Side 174 - ... voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony; That Orpheus...
Side 119 - Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!
Side 140 - The UNCANONICAL and APOCRYPHAL SCRIPTURES. Being the Additions to the Old Testament Canon which were included in the Ancient Greek and Latin Versions; the English Teit of the Authorized Version, together with the Additional Matter found In the Vulgate and other Ancient Versions; Introductions to the several Books and Fragments; Marginal Notes and References ; and a General Introduction to the Apocrypha. By the Rev.
Side 126 - A shadow flits before me, Not thou, but like to thee : Ah Christ, that it were possible For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Side 250 - Tullochgorum. But for the sullen frumpish fool, That loves to be oppression's tool, May envy gnaw his rotten soul, And discontent devour him ! May dool and sorrow be his chance, Dool and sorrow, dool and sorrow, May dool and sorrow be his chance, And nane say, wae's me for him ! May dool and sorrow be his chance, Wi' a' the ills that come frae France, Whae'er he be that winna dance The reel o

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