Romance of Reality, Or Tales from a Wanderer's Diary

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Pawson and Brailsford, 1862
 

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Page 71 - Alas ! our young affections run to waste, Or water but the desert ; whence arise But weeds of dark luxuriance, tares of haste, Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes, Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies...
Page 190 - The eye that mocketh at his father, and despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.
Page ix - What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
Page 164 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face That makes simplicity a grace; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free: Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Page 43 - His hands, methinks, are bath'd in slaughter, Ah me! what ghastly spectre's yon, Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding after. Pale as he is, here lay him lay him down, O lay his cold head on my pillow; Take aff take aff these bridal weids, And crown my careful head with willow. Pale tho...
Page 96 - THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER. ANONYMOUS. AN old song made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate ; Like an old courtier of the queen's, And the queen's old courtier.
Page 191 - AH ! who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar ; Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime Has felt the influence of malignant star, And waged with Fortune an eternal war ; Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, And Poverty's unconquerable bar, In life's low vale remote has pined alone, Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown...
Page 169 - The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
Page 56 - tis not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come ; the readiness is all ; since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?
Page 190 - As the bird by wandering, as the swallow by flying, so the curse causeless shall not come.

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