The Cornhill Magazine, Tom 16;Tom 63William Makepeace Thackeray Smith, Elder and Company, 1891 |
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Strona 310 - Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me ; For my soul taketh refuge in thee : Yea, in the shadow of thy wings will I take refuge, Until these 'calamities be overpast.
Strona 269 - The Lord saw good, I was lopping off wood, And down fell from the tree, I met with a check, and I broke my neck, And so Death lopped off me.
Strona 152 - The snake slipt under a spray, The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak, And stared, with his foot on the prey, And the nightingale thought, "I have sung many songs, But never a one so gay, For he sings of what the world will be When the years have died away.
Strona 133 - And the land where the cord was wove. What of the shaft ? The shaft was cut in England : A long shaft, a strong shaft, Barbed and trim and true ; So we'll drink all together To the grey goose feather And the land where the grey goose flew.
Strona 134 - WHAT of the bow ? The bow was made in England : Of true wood, of yew wood, The wood of English bows; So men who are free Love the old yew-tree And the land where the yew-tree grows. What of the cord? The cord was made in England: A rough cord, a tough cord, A cord that bowmen love; So we'll drain our jacks To the English flax And the land where the hemp was wove.
Strona 155 - Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint, Science moves, but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point : Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire. Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns.
Strona 156 - And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons came, Ship after ship, the whole night long...
Strona 153 - d Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. For now the noonday quiet holds the hill : The grasshopper is silent in the grass : The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, Rests like a shadow, and the cicala sleeps.
Strona 560 - Here is a hole in the side two ells across, the sail split through the centre, and the wood as bare as a friar's polL In good sooth, I know not what I shall say to Master Witherton when I see the Itchen once more.
Strona 134 - What of the men? The men were bred in England: The bowmen — the yeomen — The lads of dale and fell. Here's to you — and to you! To the hearts that are true And the land where the true hearts dwell.