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Side 216 - No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God.
Side 186 - Even such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust ; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days ; But from this earth, this grave, this dust. My God shall raise me up, I trust ! ELIZABETHAN MISCELLANIES.
Side 68 - Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore When Thames in summer wreaths is drest, And oft suspend the dashing oar To bid his gentle spirit rest...
Side 118 - Shakespeare OTHERS abide our question. Thou art free. We ask and ask — Thou smilest and art still, Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, Spares but the cloudy border of his base To the foil'd searching of mortality; And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour'd, self-secure, Didst tread on earth unguess'd at.
Side 138 - The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood ; Stop up...
Side 170 - Olympvs habet. Stay, passenger, why goest thov by so fast ? Read, if thov canst, whom enviovs Death hath plast Within this monvment : SHAKSPEARE : with whome Qvick Natvre dide ; whose name doth deck y» tombe Far more than cost ; sieth all yt he hath writt Leaves living art bvt page to serve his witt. Obiit Ano. Doi. 1616. ^Etatis 53. Die. 23. Ap.
Side 211 - There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found ; The redbreast loves to build and warble there, And little footsteps lightly print the ground.
Side 82 - There's fennel for you, and columbines; there's rue for you; and here's some for me; we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died.
Side 213 - Gray was, in fact, the grand emblem of hl£ sincerity and the corner-stone of his imperishable renown. There is a better thing than the great man who is always speaking; and that is the great man who only speaks when he has a great word to say.
Side 114 - ... too ! Through winds and tides one compass guides : To that and your own selves be true. But 0 blithe breeze ! and 0 great seas ! Though ne'er that earliest parting past, On your wide plain they join again, Together lead them home at last. One port, methought, alike they sought, — One purpose hold where'er they fare ; 0 bounding breeze, 0 rushing seas, At last, at last, unite them there ! ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH.