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Page 59 - And think'st thou, Scott! by vain conceit perchance, On public taste to foist thy stale romance, Though Murray with his Miller may combine To yield thy muse just half-a-crown per line? No! when the sons of song descend to trade, Their bays are sear, their former laurels fade. Let such forego the poet's sacred name, Who rack their brains for lucre, not for fame: Still for stern Mammon may they toil in vain!
Page 138 - If they prosecute, I will come to England ; that is, if, by meeting it in my own person, I can save yours. Let me know. You sha'n't suffer for me, if I can help it. Make any use of this letter you please.
Page 23 - But soon he knew himself the most unfit Of men to herd with Man; with whom he held Little in common...
Page 113 - Tarragona, remembered neither of these circumstances, and tried to dissuade us from the attempt. A number of the Salsette's crew were known to have accomplished a greater distance; and the only thing that surprised me was, that, as doubts had been entertained of the truth of Leander's story, no traveller had ever endeavoured to ascertain its practicability.
Page 9 - START not — nor deem my spirit fled : In me behold the only skull, From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaff'd, like thee ; I died : let earth my bones resign : Fill up — thou canst not injure me ; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the sparkling grape, Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood ; And circle in the goblet's shape The drink of gods, than reptile's food.
Page 55 - Greece around me see! The Spartan, borne upon his shield, Was not more free. Awake! (Not Greece — She is awake!) Awake, my spirit ! Think through whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake, And then strike home!
Page 156 - twas, besides, his bread, Of which he buttered both sides; 'twould delay Too long the assembly (he was pleased to dread), And take up rather more time than a day, To name his works — he would but cite a few — 'Wat Tyler'— 'Rhymes on Blenheim'— 'Waterloo'.
Page 65 - A mirror of my heart, where she may read The thousand thoughts I now betray to thee, Wild as thy wave, and headlong as thy speed ! What do I say — a mirror of my heart?
Page 157 - He had written praises -of a regicide; He had written praises of all kings whatever; He had written for republics far and wide, And then against them bitterer than ever; For pantisocracy he once had cried Aloud, a scheme less moral than 'twas clever; Then grew a hearty antijacobin — Had turn'd his coat — and would have turn'd his skin.