A man without a name [by B.C. Grey] ed. by the dowager countess of Morley, Volume 1

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Page 68 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Page 281 - tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Page 35 - She was a woman of a steady mind, Tender and deep in her excess of love, Not speaking much, pleased rather with the joy Of her own thoughts : by some especial care Her temper had been framed, as if to make A being, who, by adding love to peace, Might live on earth a life of happiness.
Page 292 - Thus Love repays to Hope what Hope first gave to Love. Yet haply there will come a weary day, When overtasked at length Both Love and Hope beneath the load give way. Then, with a statue's smile, a statue's strength, Stands the mute sister, Patience, nothing loth, And both supporting does the work of both.
Page 176 - The wise and active conquer difficulties, By daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard, And make th
Page 303 - BETTER trust all and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart that, if believed, Had blessed one's life with true believing. Oh, in this mocking world, too fast The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth.
Page 232 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 91 - If there is one thing I hate more than another, it is such a sneaking varlet as that Dwining !" " Have a care he does not hear you say so,
Page 193 - tis you go about. To climb steep hills, Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like A full-hot horse ; who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him.

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