Supernatural Illusions

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T.C. Newby, 1851
 

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Página 21 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Página 81 - We wither from our youth, we gasp away — Sick — sick; unfound the boon — unslaked the thirst, Though to the last, in verge of our decay, Some phantom lures, such as we sought at first — But all too late, — so are we doubly curst. Love, fame, ambition, avarice — 'tis the same, Each idle — and all ill — and none the worst — For all are meteors with a different name, And Death the sable smoke where vanishes the flame.
Página 156 - Know thus far forth. — By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, Now my dear lady,, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore : and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star ; whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop.
Página 16 - I've seen around me fall, Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed.
Página 305 - Whilome in Albion's isle there dwelt a youth Who ne in virtue's ways did take delight ; ". But spent his days in riot most uncouth, And vex'd with mirth the drowsy ear of Night. Ah, me ! in sooth he was a shameless wight, Sore given to revel and ungodly glee ; Few earthly things found favour in his sight Save concubines and carnal companie, And flaunting wassailers of high and low degree.
Página 40 - He turned him round and fled amain With hurry and dash to the beach again; He twisted over from side to side, And laid his cheek to the cleaving tide. The strokes of his plunging arms are fleet, And with all his might he flings his feet. But the water-sprites are round him still. To cross his path and work him ill.
Página 35 - ... but when money will hire you to plead for injustice against your own knowledge, and to use your wits to defraud the righteous, and spoil his cause, or vex him with delays, for the advantage of your unrighteous client: I would not have your conscience for all your gains, nor your accompt to make for all the world.
Página 219 - Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away.
Página 238 - How then was the Devil drest ? Oh, he was in his Sunday's best. His coat was red and his breeches were blue, And there was a hole where his tail came through.
Página 33 - His ambush is a shop- stall, or close lane, and his assault is cowardly at your back. He respites you in no place but a tavern, where he sells his minutes dearer than a clock-maker.

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