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admiration Algiers American appears army artist beautiful called captain Bainbridge captain Lawrence Catullus character charms Chesapeake church colours command commodore conduct crew dear death effect enemy English excellent eyes father favour feel French French poetry frigate genius Giaour give guns hand happy heart honour hope Horace Walpole Hudibras hundred Junius Katherine labour lady language letter letters of Junius lieutenant live lord Mac Fingal manner MARTHA LAURENS RAMSAY ment mind nature naval navy never o'er observed officers OLDSCHOOL opinion passion persons Petruchio Philadelphia picture Plautus poem poet poetry PORT FOLIO portrait possessed present racter received regicide remark render sail scene Semblançay sent Seraglio ship soon soul Spain spirit style talents taste thee thing thou thought tion United verse vessels Voltaire wife writer young
Page 179 - And it came to pass, that, as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray, as John also taught his disciples.
Page 174 - There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: and there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.
Page 164 - I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame.
Page 174 - For behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck.
Page 647 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress...
Page 33 - The tear down childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dewdrop on the rose ; When next the summer breeze comes by, And waves the bush, the flower is dry.
Page 163 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains.
Page 516 - Tis she ; — but why that bleeding bosom gor'd, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword ! Oh, ever beauteous, ever friendly ! tell, Is it, in heaven, a crime to love too well ? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a lover's or a Roman's part ? Is there no bright reversion in the sky, For those who greatly think, or bravely die...
Page 60 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Page 383 - ... for these reasons it has been my ardent wish to see a plan devised, on a liberal scale, which would have a tendency to spread systematic ideas through all parts of this rising empire, thereby to do away local attachments and State prejudices, as far as the nature of things would, or indeed ought to admit, from our national councils.