Critical Confessions

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Philosopher Press, 1899 - 245 pages
 

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Page 68 - Come wealth or want, come good or ill, Let young and old accept their part, And bow before the Awful Will, And bear it with an honest heart, Who misses or who wins the prize. — Go, lose or conquer as you can ; But if you fail, or if you rise, Be each, pray God, a gentleman.
Page 57 - I'd say your woes were not less keen, Your hopes more vain, than those of men, Your pangs or pleasures of fifteen At forty-five played o'er again. I'd say we suffer and we strive Not less nor more as men than boys, With grizzled beards at forty-five, As erst at twelve in corduroys, And if, in time of sacred youth, We learned at home to love and pray, Pray heaven that early love and truth May never wholly pass away.
Page 156 - You did promise Powhatan what was yours should bee his, and he the like to you; you called him father being in his land a stranger, and by the same reason so must I doe you...
Page 165 - ... himself; that would never see us want, what he either had, or could by any means get us; that would rather want than borrow, or starve than not pay; that loved action more than words, and hated falsehood and covetousness worse than death; whose adventures were our lives, and whose loss our deaths.
Page 119 - Christian knights; and now I dare say," said Sir Ector, "that Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, thou were never matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou were the courtliest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; and thou were the kindest man that ever...
Page 35 - Revenge with a swarthier alien crew, And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own ; When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep, And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their flags, And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shotshatter'd navy of Spain, And the little Revenge herself...
Page 230 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Page 124 - Lincolne-shire; where within a short time being glutted with too much company, wherein he took small delight, he retired himselfe into a little wooddie pasture, a good way from any towne, invironed with many hundred Acres of other woods: Here by a faire brook he built a Pavillion of boughes, where only in his cloaths he lay.
Page 156 - Were you not afraid to come into my father's country and cause fear in him and all his people but me, and fear you here I should call you father? I tell you, then, I will, and you shall call me child, and so I will be for ever and ever your countryman.
Page 68 - THE play is done ; the curtain drops, Slow falling, to the prompter's bell : A moment yet the actor stops, And looks around, to say farewell. It is an irksome word and task ; And when he's laughed and said his say, He shows, as he removes the mask, A face that's anything but gay.

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