The Scrap Table for MDCCCXXXI.

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Carter, Hendee & Babcock, 1830 - American literature - 184 pages

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Page 64 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
Page 147 - Doubt thou the stars are fire ; Doubt that the sun doth move ; Doubt truth to be a liar ; But never doubt I love.
Page 31 - I SAW thy form in youthful prime, Nor thought that pale decay Would steal before the steps of Time, And waste its bloom away, Mary ! Yet still thy features wore that light, Which fleets not with the breath ; And life ne'er look'd more...
Page 121 - The small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro' the vale; The primroses blow in the dews of the morning, And wild...
Page 101 - In our country [she continues], though all men are not "created equal," such is the influence of the sentiment of liberty and political equality, that "All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame," may with as much probability be supposed to affect conduct and expectation in the log cabin as in the marble mansion; and to illustrate this truth, to dispel that erroneous belief of the necessary baseness of the "common people...
Page 125 - How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear Charmer away!
Page 99 - England, has rendered herself forever famous. The exhibition of her devotion to him amid the horrors of battle, and the tedious hours of sickness, has been celebrated by the classic pen of Burgoyne, as a ' picture of the spirit, the enterprize, and the distress of romance realized, and regulated, upon the chaste and sober principles of rational love and connubial duty.
Page 80 - Arms, the noisy chorus of the bar was hushed to silence, and Tippleglass sank to rest with sundry calculations of profit, which were followed by a delightful dream of wealth and repose. He might have been almost heard to exclaim, with ancient Pistol : ' A foutra for the world and worldlings base, I speak of Africa and golden joys,' THE EXILE, ' I will a round unvarnished tale deliver.
Page 32 - Seem'd worthless in thy own, Mary ! If souls could always dwell above, Thou ne'er hadst left that sphere : Or could we keep the souls we love, We ne'er had lost thee here, Mary ! Though many a gifted mind we meet, Though fairest forms we see, To live with them is far less sweet, Than to remember thee, Mary !i — :o: — BY THAT LAKE WHOSE GLOOMY SHORE.

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