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Pagina 253 - She filled the helm, and back she hied, And with surprise and joy espied A monk supporting Marmion's head; A pious man, whom duty brought To dubious verge of battle fought, To shrive the dying, bless the dead. XXXI. Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave, And, as she stooped his brow to lave "Is it the hand of Clare," he said, "Or injured Constance, bathes my head?
Pagina 246 - Douglas' head ! And first I tell thee, haughty peer, He who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, Even in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near...
Pagina 253 - O, woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow A ministering angel thou...
Pagina 127 - And what wul ye leive to your ain mither deir, Edward, Edward? And what wul ye lewe to your ain mither deir ? My deir son, now tell me O." "The curse of hell frae me sail ye beir, Mither, mither, The curse of hell frae me sail ye beir, Sic counseils ye gave to me O.
Pagina 250 - At length the freshening western blast Aside the shroud of battle cast; And first the ridge of mingled spears Above the brightening cloud appears; And in the smoke the pennons flew, As in the storm the white sea-mew. Then marked they, dashing broad and far, The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave Floating like foam upon the wave...
Pagina 251 - Rushed with bare bosom on the spear, And flung the feeble targe aside, And with both hands the broadsword plied ; 'Twas vain.
Pagina 148 - You must be father and mother both, And uncle all in one; God knows what will become of them, When I am dead and gone.
Pagina 362 - O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust, avoiding profane and vain babblings, and oppositions of science falsely so called: which some professing have erred concerning the faith.
Pagina 252 - By Saint George, he's gone ! That spear-wound has our master sped, And see the deep cut on his head ! Good night to Marmion." — " Unnurtured Blount ! thy brawling cease : He opes his eyes," said Eustace ; " peace !
Pagina 265 - ... if all those who labor about useless things were set to more profitable employments, and if all they that languish out their lives in sloth and idleness (every one of whom consumes as much as any two of the men that are at work) were forced to labor, you may easily imagine that a small proportion of time would serve for doing all that is either necessary, profitable, or pleasant to mankind, especially while pleasure is kept within its due bounds...