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Página 6 - But clear and artless pouring through the plain Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows ? Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? Who taught that heaven-directed spire to rise ? " The Man of Ross," each lisping babe replies. Behold the market-place with poor o'erspread ! The Man of Ross...
Página 6 - Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more. Despairing quacks with curses fled the place, And vile attorneys, now a useless race.
Página 54 - Though loud at first the pilgrim's passion grew, Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do; Surprise in secret chains his words suspends, And in a calm his settling temper ends. But silence here the beauteous angel broke, The voice of music ravish'd as he spoke.
Página 7 - Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name : Go, search it there,* where to be born and die, Of rich and poor, makes all the history ; Enough, that virtue fill'd the space between ; Proved, by the ends of being, to have been.
Página 7 - In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung, The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, On once a flock-bed, but repaired with straw, With tape-tied curtains never meant to draw, The George and Garter...
Página 91 - By clean conveyance disappear; And now two bloody swords are there. A purse she to a thief exposed; At once his ready fingers closed. He opes his fist, the treasure's fled; He sees a halter in its stead.
Página 98 - Puss, and being informed that her kittens would stock the whole country, bargained with the captain for the whole ship's cargo, and then gave him ten times as much for the cat as all the rest amounted to. The captain then took leave of the royal party, and set sail with a fair wind for England, and after a happy voyage arrived safe in London. One morning Mr. Fitzwarren had just come to his countinghouse and seated himself at the desk, when somebody came tap, tap, at the door. "Who's there?" said...
Página 6 - Vaga echoes through her winding bounds, And rapid Severn hoarse applause resounds. Who hung with woods yon mountain's sultry brow ? From the dry rock who bade the waters flow ? Not to the skies in useless columns tost, Or in proud falls magnificently lost, But clear and artless, pouring through the plain Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows? Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? Who taught that heaven-directed spire to rise ?