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Strana 345 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small. Who dares not put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.
Strana 261 - 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).
Strana 466 - And that is true enough, too," said the Englishman, struck by the appeal. "Adzooks!" exclaimed the bailiff, "sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank, is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets — men forget the use of their daddies." "I may teach you, Master Fleecebumpkin, that I have not lost the use of mine," said Wakefield, and then went on.
Strana 355 - A mother would not keep the word of promise to the ear, and break it to the hope.
Strana 228 - 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...
Strana 81 - Protector of the conquer'd land ; Drawn in that look with which he wept and swore, Turn'd out the members, and made fast the door, Ridding the house of every knave and drone, Forced, though it grieved his soul, to rule alone.
Strana 138 - 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.
Strana 353 - He would propose the health of his friend Bailie Nicol Jarvie, (loud applause)— and he was sure, that when the author of Waverley and Rob -Roy drinks to Nicol Jarvie, it would be received with that degree of applause to which that gentleman has always been accustomed, and that they would take care that on the present occasion it should be PRODIGIOUS ! (Long and vehement applause.) MR.
Strana 191 - 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...