Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, Volume 2

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"Transactions and publications of the Royal Historical Society" in each vol., ser. 4, v. 18-26.
 

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Page 10 - Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother— he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday— All this rush'd with his blood— Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Page 20 - And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham : And he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me.
Page 175 - Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town ? ' Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate : 'To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late; And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his Gods...
Page 445 - But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction: for he transgressed against the LORD his God, and went into the temple of the LORD to burn incense upon the altar of incense.
Page 146 - England possessed in land or in cattle, and how much money this was worth. So very narrowly did he cause the survey to be made, that there was not a single hide nor a rood of land, nor — it is shameful to relate that which he thought no shame to do — was there an ox, or a cow, or a pig passed by, and that was not set down in the accounts, and then all these writings were brought to him.
Page 165 - Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd and said amang them a'; — "Ye are na Mary Morison!
Page 184 - O, woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 177 - If thou beest he ; but oh, how fallen ! how changed From him, who in the happy realms of light Clothed with transcendent brightness didst outshine Myriads though bright...
Page 179 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Page 326 - And therewith kest I doun myn eye ageyne, Quhare as I saw walkyng under the Toure, Full secretely, new cumyn hir to pleyne, The fairest or the freschest younge floure That ever I sawe, methought, before that houre, For quhich sodayne abate, anon astert The blude of all my body to my hert.

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