Notes and Queries

Framsida
Oxford University Press, 1904
 

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Sida 203 - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
Sida 290 - In the elder days of Art, Builders -wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part ; For the gods see everywhere.
Sida 375 - O'erhang his wavy bed: Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn...
Sida 212 - Great wits are sure to madness near allied; And thin partitions do their bounds divide: Else why should he, with wealth and honour blest, Refuse his age the needful hours of rest?
Sida 213 - Sais-tu quel est Pyrrhus ? T'es-tu fait raconter Le nombre des exploits... Mais qui les peut compter? Intrépide, et partout suivi de la victoire, Charmant, fidčle enfin, rien ne manque ā sa gloire.
Sida 190 - Enough, if something from our hands have power To live, and act, and serve the future hour; And if, as toward the silent tomb we go, Through love, through hope, and faith's transcendent dower, We feel that we are greater than we know.
Sida 65 - Paul's Day be fair and clear. It does betide a happy year; But if it chance to snow or rain, Then will be dear all kinds of grain: If clouds or mists do dark the skie, Great store of birds and beasts shall die; And if the winds do fly aloft, Then wars shall vex the kingdome oft.
Sida 77 - Woe to the coward, that ever he was born, Who did not draw the sword before he blew the horn!
Sida 442 - The distant hills are looking nigh. How restless are the snorting swine ! The busy flies disturb the kine ; Low o'er the grass the swallow wings, The cricket, too, how sharp he sings ! Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws, Sits wiping o'er her whiskered jaws.
Sida 154 - Can fire the guest in warming of the bed — There's a touch of sublime Milton for you, and the subject but an inn-keeper's daughter ! I can play with a girl as an angler does with his fish ; he keeps it at the end of his line, runs it up the stream, and down the stream, till at last he brings it to hand, tickles the trout, and so whips it into his basket.

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