St. George; Or, The Canadian League, Volume 1

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Page 71 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth...
Page 42 - There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die...
Page 16 - And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A tone of music — summer's eve — or spring — A flower — the wind — the ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; XXIV.
Page i - It is no marvel — from my very birth My soul was drunk with love, which did pervade And mingle with whate'er I saw on earth ; . : Of objects all inanimate I made Idols, and out of wild and lonely flowers, And rocks, whereby they grew, a paradise, Where I did lay me down within the shade Of waving trees, and dreamed uncounted hours, Though I was chid for wandering...
Page 139 - He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at any thing.
Page 236 - For time at last sets all things even — And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong.
Page 62 - Yet was there light around her brow, A holiness in those dark eyes, Which show'd — though. wandering earthward now, — Her spirit's home was in the skies. Yes — for a spirit, pure as hers, Is always pure, even while it errs ; .As sunshine, broken in the rill, Though turn'd astray, is sunshine still...
Page 34 - To what thou hast, and for the air of youth, Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign A melancholy damp of cold and dry To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume The balm of life.
Page 77 - ... there's a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will.
Page 105 - Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no! True — they may lay your proud despoilers low, But not for you will Freedom's Altars flame. Shades of the Helots! triumph o'er your foe!

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