The Glory and Shame of England, Volume 1

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Bartram & Lester, 1866 - England

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Page 76 - Life is a Jest, and all Things show it; I thought so once, but now I know it.
Page 109 - ... as the very carcasses they spared not to scrape out of their graves ; and if they found a plot of watercresses or shamrocks, there they flocked as to a feast for the time, yet not able long to continue there withal; that in short space there were none almost left, and a most populous and plentiful country suddenly left void of man and beast...
Page 79 - Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your excellency, and a military tribunal, to adapt the mode of my death to the feelings of a man of honour.
Page 75 - No more the Grecian muse unrivall'd reigns, To Britain let the nations homage pay : She felt a Homer's fire in Milton's strains, A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gray.
Page 74 - Sweet Swan of Avon ! what a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza, and our James...
Page 94 - But though glory be gone, and though hope fade away, Thy name, loved Erin ! shall live in his songs, Not even in the hour when his heart is most gay Will he lose the remembrance of thee and thy wrongs ! The stranger shall hear thy lament on his plains ; The sigh of thy harp shall be sent o'er the deep, Till thy masters themselves, as they rivet thy chains, Shall pause at the song of their captive and weep ! WHILE GAZING ON THE MOON'S LIGHT.
Page 71 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.
Page 78 - Andre, who, raised by his merit, at an early period of life, to the rank of Adjutant-General of the British forces in America, and, employed in an important but hazardous enterprise, fell a sacrifice to his zeal for his King and Country, on the 2d...
Page 74 - To draw no envy, SHAKESPEARE, on thy name, Am I thus ample to thy book and fame ; While I confess thy writings to be such, As neither man, nor muse, can praise too much.
Page 74 - The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise! I will not lodge thee by Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room: Thou art a monument without a tomb, And art alive still while thy book doth live And we have wits to read and praise to give.

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