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Strana 12 - ' said the apostle, "in the church of my brother St. Peter, near the high altar, is concealed the steel head of the lance that pierced the side of our Redeemer. In three days that instrument of eternal, and now of temporal, salvation, will be manifested to his disciples. Search and ye shall find: bear it aloft in battle; and that mystic weapon shall penetrate the souls of the miscreants.
Strana 12 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Strana 10 - But my heart has revealings of thee and thy home, In many a token and sign ; I never look up with a vow to the sky, But a light like thy beauty is there — And I hear a low murmur like thine in reply, When I pour out my spirit in prayer.
Strana 16 - LOVE is a sickness full of woes, All remedies refusing; A plant that with most cutting grows, Most barren with best using.
Strana 18 - M'Millan still stood concealed. They were both out of breath ; and at that instant, a small cloud chancing to overshadow the moon, one of them called out, " Hold, we can't see." — They uncovered their heads — wiped their faces, — and as soon as the moon emerged from the cloud, each resumed his guard. Surely that was an awful pause ! and short, indeed, was the stage between it and eternity with the one. The tall gentleman made a lounge at the other, who parried and returned it; and as the former...
Strana 10 - Lies asleep on the bosom of bliss. 1 know thou hast gone where thy forehead is starred With the beauty that dwelt in thy soul, Where the light of thy loveliness cannot be marred, Nor thy heart be flung back from its goal ; I know thou hast drunk of the Lethe, that flows Through a land where they do not forget, That sheds over memory only repose, And takes from it only regret...
Strana 28 - Which else portend a lasting rain ; Lest the clouds which settle there, Prolong my winter all the year, And thy example, others make In love with sorrow for thy sake.
Strana 3 - The richest genius, like the most fertile soil, when uncultivated, shoots up into the rankest weeds ; and instead of vines and olives for the pleasure and use of man, produces, to its slothful owner, the most abundant crop of poisons.
Strana 26 - There is some help for all the defects of fortune ; for, if a man cannot attain to the length of his wishes, he may have his remedy by cutting of them shorter.