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Seite 173 - But Jesus said unto them, A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house.
Seite 165 - As an egg, when broken, never Can be mended, but must ever Be the same crushed egg forever — So shall this dark heart of mine! Which, though broken, is still breaking, And shall never more cease aching For the sleep which has no waking — For the sleep which now is thine!
Seite 50 - Italy, my Italy ! Queen Mary's saying serves for me — (When fortune's malice Lost her — Calais) — Open my heart and you will see Graved inside of it,
Seite 32 - Still o'er these scenes my memory wakes, and fondly broods with miser care ; time but the impression deeper makes, as streams their channels deeper wear.
Seite 63 - IT WAS ON the first of May, in the year 1769, that I resigned my domestic happiness for a time, and left my family and peaceable habitation on the Yadkin River, in North- Carolina, to wander through the wilderness of America, in quest of the country of Kentucke, in company with John Finley, John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Monay, and William Cool.
Seite 94 - I hate Kentucky, curse the place, And all her vile and miscreant race ! Who make religion's sacred tie A mask thro' which they cheat and lie. Proteus could not change his shape, Nor Jupiter commit a rape, With half the ease those villains can Send prayers to God and cheat their man ! I hate all Judges here of late, And every Lawyer in the State. Each quack that is...
Seite 63 - We proceeded successfully, and after a long and fatiguing journey through a mountainous wilderness, in a westward direction, on the seventh day of June following, we found ourselves on Red-River, where John Finley had formerly been trading with the Indians, and, from the top of an eminence, saw with pleasure the beautiful level of Kentucke.
Seite 169 - : — " Many mellow Cydonian suckets, Sweet apples, anthosmial, divine, From the ruby-rimmed beryline buckets Star-gemmed, lily-shaped, hyaline ; Like the sweet golden goblet found growing On the wild emerald cucumber-tree, Rich, brilliant, like chrysoprase glowing, Was my beautiful Rosalie Lee.
Seite 146 - O voyager of that universe which lies Between the four walls of this garden fair, — Whose constellations are the fireflies That wheel their instant courses everywhere, — 'Mid fairy firmaments wherein one sees Mimic Bootes and the Pleiades, Thou steerest like some fairy ship-of-air.
Seite 164 - When thy soft round form was lying On the bed where thou wert sighing, I could not believe thee dying, Till thy angel-soul had fled ; For no sickness gave me warning, Rosy health thy cheeks adorning — Till that hope-destroying morning, When my precious child lay dead! Now, thy white shroud covers slightly Thy pale limbs, which were so sprightly, While thy snow-white arms lie lightly On thy soul-abandoned breast ; As the dark blood faintly lingers In thy pale, cold, lily fingers, Thou, the sweetest...