JOHN RANDOPH, OF ROANOKE AND OTHER SKETCHES OF CHARACTER INCLUDING WILLIAM WIRT TOGETHER WITH TALES OF REAL LIFE

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Page 174 - Where Angels tremble while they gaze, He saw; but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
Page 174 - Sublime" He deigned not to belie his soul in songs, Nor turn his very talent to a crime; He did not loathe the Sire to laud the Son, But closed the tyrant-hater he began.
Page 63 - Oh, how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ? The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, Oh, how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven 10 These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy...
Page 175 - Think'st thou, could he — the blind old man — arise, Like Samuel from the grave, to freeze once more The blood of monarchs with his prophecies, Or be alive again — again all hoar With time and trials, and those helpless eyes, And heartless daughters — worn — and pale — and poor: Would he adore a sultan? he obey The intellectual eunuch Castlereagh?
Page 43 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongu'd against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Page 200 - The world recedes ; it disappears ! Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears With sounds seraphic ring : Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! 0 Grave ! where is thy victory? 0 Death! where is thy sting?
Page 39 - whose seat is the bosom of God, and whose voice is the harmony of the world...
Page 19 - FROM distant climes, o'er wide-spread seas we come, Though not with much eclat, or beat of drum; True patriots all, for, be it understood, We left our country for our country's good...
Page 66 - Ten of them were sheathed in steel. With belted sword and spur on heel: They quitted not their harness bright, Neither by day nor yet by night: They lay down to rest, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred.
Page 32 - The tree will wither long before it fall ; The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn; The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall In massy hoariness; the...

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