Notes and Queries

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Oxford University Press, 1873 - Electronic journals
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Notes and Queries - Page 142
de Martim de Albuquerque - Literature - 1873
“Josué de Meschin, Lieutenant dans Ia marine, ... The De Meschin family was famous
for the number of knights which it sent to the Crusades; ... 

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Page 19 - I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. 2. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Page 376 - You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage, and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once 'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke! Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen...
Page 428 - SCRIPTURES, &c. The Cambridge Paragraph Bible of the Authorized English Version, with the Text revised by a Collation of its Early and other Principal Editions...
Page 168 - The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup: Thou maintainest my lot. The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.
Page 347 - Seeking a higher object. Love was given, Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that end ; For this the passion to excess was driven, That self might be annulled : her bondage prove The fetters of a dream, opposed to love.
Page 228 - Who quits a world where strong temptations try, And since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! For him no wretches, born to work and weep, Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep...
Page 223 - Christ was the word that spake it, He took the bread and brake it, And what that word did make it, That I believe and take it.
Page 168 - Lo ! on a narrow neck of land, 'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand Secure, insensible ; A point of time, a moment's space Removes me to that heavenly place, Or shuts me up in hell.
Page 78 - Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean; so over that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Page 170 - My prime of youth is but a frost of cares; My feast of joy is but a dish of pain; My crop of corn is but a field of tares; And all my good is but vain hope of gain. The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun; And now I live, and now my life is done.

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