The Reliques of Father Prout

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Bell & Daldy, 1873 - 578 pages

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Page 112 - Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tower...
Page 159 - I've heard bells tolling Old Adrian's Mole in, Their thunder rolling From the Vatican, And cymbals glorious Swinging uproarious In the gorgeous turrets Of Notre Dame But thy sounds were sweeter Than the dome of Peter Flings o'er the Tiber, Pealing solemnly; — O ! the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Page 22 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Page 34 - Pope. Friend to my life ! (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove? Or which must end me, a fool's wrath or love ? A dire dilemma!
Page 127 - Catholic countries about nine months after Lent, than at any other season: therefore reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of popish infants is at least three to one in this kingdom, and therefore it will have one other collateral advantage by lessening the number of papists among us.
Page 23 - Whilst we follow them among the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into the deepest frozen recesses of Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits, whilst we are looking for them beneath the arctic circle, we hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar cold, that they are at the antipodes, and engaged under the frozen serpent of the south.
Page 372 - Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their importunate chink, whilst thousands of great cattle, reposed beneath the shadow of the British oak, chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field; that, of course, they are many in number; or that, after all, they are other than the little, shrivelled, meagre, hopping, though loud and troublesome insects of the hour.
Page 123 - He gave the little Wealth he had, "To build a House for Fools and Mad: "And shew'd by one satiric Touch, "No Nation wanted it so much: "That Kingdom he hath left his Debtor, "I wish it soon may have a Better.
Page 92 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle-blade; And furious every charger neighed To join the dreadful revelry.
Page 60 - There is a stone there, that whoever kisses, Oh ! he never misses to grow eloquent. 'Tis he may clamber to a lady's chamber, Or become a member of parliament : A clever spouter he'll sure turn out, or An out-and-outer, "to be let alone...

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