The Yahoo: A Satirical Rhapsody ...

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G. Vale, 1846 - 119 Seiten
 

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Seite 18 - For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no preeminence above a beast: for all is vanity. All go unto one place; all are of the dust, and all turn to dust again.
Seite 55 - And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.
Seite 103 - That, although he hated the Yahoos of this country, yet he no more blamed them for their odious qualities than he did a gnnayh (a bird of prey) for its cruelty, or a sharp stone for cutting his hoof. But when a creature pretending to reason could be capable of such enormities, he dreaded lest the corruption of that faculty might be worse than brutality itself.
Seite 56 - And the LORD opened the mouth of the ass, and she said unto Balaam, What have I done unto thee, that thou hast smitten me these three times?
Seite 35 - The father shall be divided against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother; the mother in law against her daughter in law, and the daughter in law against her mother in law.
Seite 61 - And he said, Woe unto you also, ye lawyers! for ye lade men with burdens grievous to be borne, and ye yourselves touch not the burdens with one of your fingers.
Seite 67 - Behold yond simpering dame, whose face between her forks presages snow; that minces virtue, and does shake the head to hear of pleasure's name. The fitchew, nor the soiled horse goes to't with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are Centaurs, though women all above: but to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the Fiends.
Seite 19 - WERE I, who to my cost already am, One of those strange, prodigious Creatures Man, A Spirit free, to choose for my own share, What...
Seite 110 - These simple blessings of the lowly train; To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art; Spontaneous joys, where Nature has its play, The soul adopts, and owns their firstborn sway; Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined.
Seite 52 - Hath my master sent me to thy master, and to thee, to speak these words ? hath he not sent me to the men which sit on the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you?

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