Waverley Novels, Svazek 12

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Robert Cadell, 1830
 

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Strana 102 - Sweet sister, let me live : What sin you do to save a brother's life, Nature dispenses with the deed so far, That it becomes a virtue.
Strana 208 - My horse moved on; hoof after hoof He raised, and never stopped : When down behind the cottage roof, At once, the bright moon dropped. What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover's head! "O mercy!" to myself I cried, "If Lucy should be dead!
Strana 190 - Tis the voice of the sluggard ; I heard him complain, " You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head. "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber...
Strana 281 - He that is down needs fear no fall; He that is low no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.
Strana 260 - Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.
Strana 246 - And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
Strana 308 - Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl ! And shame and terror over all ! Deeds to be hid which were not hid, Which all confused I could not know Whether I suffered, or I did: For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe, My own or others still the same Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.
Strana 225 - A little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked.
Strana 127 - Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey...
Strana 376 - A huge sea of verdure, with crossing and intersecting promontories of massive and tufted groves, was tenanted by numberless flocks and herds, which seemed to wander unrestrained and unbounded through the rich pastures. The Thames, here turreted with villas, and there garlanded with forests, moved on slowly and placidly, like the mighty monarch of the scene, to whom all its other beauties were but accessories, and bore on its bosom an hundred barks and skiffs, whose white sails, and gaily fluttering...

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