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ancient appear arms army barons battle bishop blood body brother brought called Canute carried castle cause church commanded Conqueror continued court crown death duke earl Edward enemies England English Enter eyes father fear field fight force France French friends gave give hand Harold hast hath head heart heaven Henry holy honour horse hundred John king king's kingdom knights land leave live London look lord manner marched matter means nature never noble Norman Normandy Northumbria passed peace person possession present prince prisoner queen received reign remained Richard Roman Rome royal Saxon seems sent side soldiers soon speak subjects sword taken thee things thou thought thousand took town walls whole York young
Page 478 - This story shall the good man teach his son ; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered...
Page 566 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 356 - Girt with many a baron bold, Sublime their starry fronts they rear ; And gorgeous dames and statesmen old In bearded majesty appear...
Page 61 - Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
Page 356 - The verse adorn again Fierce War, and faithful Love, And Truth severe, by fairy Fiction drest. In buskin'd measures move Pale Grief, and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast. A voice as of the cherub-choir Gales from blooming Eden bear, And distant warblings lessen on my ear That lost in long futurity expire.
Page 354 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood ; (Loose his beard and hoary hair, Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air,) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre...
Page 568 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr...
Page 514 - I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate ; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young ; So many weeks ere the poor fools will...