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amid arbalist arms Aztlan battle beheld beneath bless blood breast called cheek chief Conrade cried dark dead death dreadful duke of Burgundy Dunois earth England English evil exclaim'd fair falchion father fear feel fell fire France gate gazed glory grave hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven Holinshed holy honor hope host hour Jack Straw Joan of Arc John Ball Joshua Barnes Keswick king light live look'd Lord Madoc Maid Maid of Orleans Maiden mangonels mercy morning never night Nore o'er Orleans pass'd peace poem poor prayer Prince quoth replied Richemont round says shield song soon sorrow soul spake spirit stood sword Thalaba thee thine thou art thought toil towers town troops turn'd Tyler victory voice walls Wat Tyler waves Westbury wind wretched young youth
Strona 176 - Receding and speeding, And shocking and rocking, And darting and parting, And threading and spreading, And whizzing and hissing, And dripping and skipping, And hitting and splitting, And shining and twining, And rattling and battling, And shaking and...
Strona 223 - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths.
Strona 466 - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ? " Quoth little Peterkin. " Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
Strona 445 - The great barn was full as it could hold Of women and children, and young and old. Then, when he saw it could hold no more, Bishop Hatto he made fast the door; And, while for mercy on Christ they call, He set fire to the barn, and burnt them all. "I' faith, 'tis an excellent bonfire!" quoth he; "And the country is greatly obliged to me For ridding it, in these times forlorn, Of rats that only consume the corn.
Strona 462 - And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. He felt the cheering power of spring; It made him whistle, it made him sing: His heart was mirthful to excess. But the Rover's mirth was wickedness. His eye was on the Inchcape float; Quoth he, " My men, put out the boat, And row me to the Inchcape Rock, And I'll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
Strona 153 - MY days among the Dead are past ; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.
Strona 216 - How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!
Strona 74 - Come and gather yourselves together unto the supper of the great God; that ye may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses, and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, both free and bond, both small and great.