Gesta Romanorum

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G. Bell & sons, 1894 - 425 pages
 

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Page 384 - He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall upon the book which he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle ; but lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory ; and was impressed, as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect, (for he...
Page 68 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility ; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Page 370 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
Page 390 - twas two black crows — not three." Resolved to trace so wondrous an event. Whip, to the third, the virtuoso went; "Sir" — and so forth. "Why, yes; the thing is fact, Though, in regard to number, not exact; It was not two black crows — 'twas only one; The truth 'of that you may depend upon; The gentleman himself told me the case.
Page 373 - Without a vain, without a grudging heart, To him who gives us all, I yield a part ; From him you come, for him accept it here, A frank and sober, more than costly cheer.
Page 370 - Heaven itself, till one suggestion rose ; That Vice should triumph, Virtue, Vice obey, This sprung some doubt of Providence's sway...
Page 372 - Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the shivering pair...
Page 372 - Twas built with turrets, on a rising ground, And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around ; Its owner's temper, timorous and severe, Unkind and griping, caus'da desert there. As near the miser's heavy doors they drew...
Page 390 - Bless me! how people propagate a lie! Black crows have been thrown up, three, two, and one; And here, I find, all comes, at last, to none. Did you say nothing of a crow at all?" "Crow — crow — perhaps I might, now I recall The matter over.
Page 374 - Heaven can bless, if mortals will be kind. Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl, And feels compassion touch his grateful soul. Thus artists melt the sullen ore of lead, With heaping coals of fire upon its head; In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow, And, loose from dross, the silver runs below.

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