St. George; Or, The Canadian League, Volume 2

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E.G. Fuller, 1852
 

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Page 43 - They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore ; Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom.
Page 299 - I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well ; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought Perplex'd in the extreme ; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe...
Page 181 - O, that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come ! But it sufficeth, that the day will end, And then the end is known.
Page 115 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush ! hark !—a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Page 271 - Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers; And marked the mild angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there, The...
Page 158 - The sentence of the Court on you, Joseph Hunt, is, that you be taken to the place from whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, there to be hanged by...
Page 190 - The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell, Whose every wave breaks on a living shore, Heap'd with the damn'd like pebbles.— I am giddy.
Page 271 - HE who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers), And marked the mild angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there...
Page 284 - Upon a brow more fierce than that, — Sullenly fierce — a mixture dire, Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire; In which the Peri's eye could read Dark tales of many a ruthless deed; The ruin'd maid — the shrine profaned — Oaths broken — and the threshold stain'd With blood of guests!
Page 39 - Acts passed in the thirty-first year of the reign of King George III., hath been continually violated by the British Government, and our rights usurped ; And...

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