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Página 190 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Página 438 - Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather...
Página 439 - At cards for kisses — Cupid paid ; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows...
Página 76 - My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak." The stout mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. "What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn?" "Why, you shall say at break of day: 'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!
Página 438 - They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since Deep within the lake, On a bed of flag-leaves, Watching till she wake.
Página 76 - BEHIND him lay the gray Azores, Behind, the Gates of Hercules ; Before him not the ghost of shores ; Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo ! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak; what shall I say?
Página 250 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Página 54 - NOW after the death of Moses the servant of the LORD it came to pass, that the LORD spake unto Joshua the son of Nun, Moses* minister, saying, Moses my servant is dead ; now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, thou, and all this people, unto the land which I do give to them, even to the children of Israel.
Página 509 - Potomac," they say. Except now and then a stray picket Is shot as he walks on his beat, to and fro, By a rifleman hid in the thicket. "Tis nothing; a private or two now and then Will not count in the news of the battle. Not an officer lost — only one of the men Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle. All quiet along the Potomac...