Portraits of the Seventies

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T. F. Unwin, Limited, 1916 - Great Britain - 485 pages

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Page 335 - Greek I slur a name a poet must not speak) Stood pilloried on infamy's high stage, And bore the pelting scorn of half an age ; The very butt of slander, and the blot For every dart that malice ever shot.
Page 21 - Disraeli again as Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons.
Page 61 - Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make ; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee ; My heart is at your festival, My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Page 361 - ... as sweet ; A Creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food ; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. And now I see with eye serene The very pulse of the machine ; A Being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death ; The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill ; A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of...
Page 389 - A ragamuffin husband and a rantipoling wife, We'll fiddle it and scrape it through the ups and downs of life.
Page 305 - And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink. When Simon Peter saw it he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.
Page 286 - Above the middle height, his stature seemed magnified by the attenuation of his form. It seemed that the soul never had so frail and fragile a tenement. He was dressed in a dark cassock with a red border, and wore scarlet stockings; and over his cassock a purple tippet, and on his breast a small golden cross. His countenance was naturally of an extreme pallor, though at this moment slightly flushed with the animation of a deeply interesting conference. His cheeks were hollow, and his grey eyes seemed...
Page 237 - Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain ? Were there not also Russians, English, many ? The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain, And Lord Mount Coffeehouse, the Irish peer, Who killed himself for love (with wine) last year.
Page 165 - I beheld, squatted in a corner of the large divan, a little, ferocious-looking, shrivelled, care-worn man, plainly dressed, with a brow covered with wrinkles, and a countenance clouded with anxiety and thought. I entered the shed-like divan of the kind and comparatively insignificant Kalio Bey with a feeling of awe ; I seated myself on the divan of the Grand Vizir of the Ottoman Empire, who, as my attendant informed me, had destroyed in the course of the last three months...
Page 264 - Some time before his death, he had stamped his likeness upon a little boy. With this little boy, the only pledge of her departed exciseman, Mrs. Bardell shrunk from the world, and courted the retirement and tranquillity of...

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