The Miscellaneous Prose Works of Sir Walter Scott...

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R. Cadell, 1835
 

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Page 145 - Thou rascal beadle, hold thy bloody hand : Why dost thou lash that whore ? strip thine own back ; Thou hotly lust'st to use her in that kind, For which thou whipp'st her.
Page 105 - A man i' the clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep ? Or wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep ? Wouldst thou lose thyself and catch no harm, And find thyself again without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know'st not what, And yet know whether thou art blest or not, By reading the same lines ? O then come hither, And lay my book, thy head and heart together.
Page 260 - A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire, And airy tongues, that syllable men's names On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
Page 261 - It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, ""Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Page 307 - Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost, That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin or swart faery of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity.
Page 80 - Now this part of my work I fulfilled with great sense ; for the terrors of the law and guilt for my transgressions lay heavy on my conscience : I preached what I felt; what I smartingly did feel; even that under which my poor soul did groan and tremble to astonishment.
Page 71 - Just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind.
Page 261 - The other Shape If shape it might be called that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb; Or substance might be called that shadow seemed, For each seemed either black it stood as Night, Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as Hell, And shook a dreadful dart: what seemed his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on.
Page 262 - In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets...
Page 289 - ... melody, Towns, palaces, and cities fine ; Here now, then there ; the world is mine, Rare beauties, gallant ladies shine, Whate'er is lovely or divine. All other joys to this are folly, None so sweet as melancholy. Methinks I hear, methinks I see Ghosts, goblins, fiends ; my...

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