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Side 85 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, That ten day-labourers could not end ; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength ; And, crop-full, out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Side 287 - I thank God, there are no free schools nor printing, and I hope we shall not have these hundred years; for learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from both!
Side 124 - The renowned Wouter (or Walter) Van Twiller was descended from a long line of Dutch burgomasters who had successively dozed away their lives and grown fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam, and who had comported themselves with such singular wisdom and propriety that they were never either heard or talked of— which, next to being universally applauded, should be the object of ambition of all magistrates and rulers.
Side 128 - But will God in very deed dwell with men on the earth ? Behold, heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain Thee ; how much less this house which I have built...
Side 134 - I am very confident, that the Lord has more truth yet to break forth out of his holy word. For my part I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition of the reformed churches who are come to a period in religion, and will go at present no farther than the instruments of their reformation.
Side 265 - Pythagorean scale of numbers was at once discovered to be perfect; but the poems of Homer we yet know not to transcend the common limits of human intelligence, but by remarking, that nation after nation, and century after century, has been able to do little more than transpose his incidents, new name his characters, and paraphrase his sentiments.
Side 80 - HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy ! Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings ; There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell.
Side 125 - This, by the way, is a casual remark, which I would not for the universe have it thought I apply to Governor Van Twiller.
Side 82 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and cranks,* and wanton* wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.