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'Twas a dark tale of crime, and awed and chilled E'en indignation seeming horror still'd, Men stood beside a murd'rer's couch of death, Watching-the glazing-eye and flickering-breath Speaking with look and hurried sign alone, Their thoughts, too terror-fraught for word or tone. The indignation excited in the Queen's mind against Don Louis was destined, very speedily, to be increased.
"till morning fair Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray, Who with her radiant finger still'd the roar Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds, And grisly spectres, which the Fiend had rais'd To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire.
Then remembering all the days she had lived and suffered and still'd been saved from Sandy and his like, she breathed a deep sigh. "I couldn't go with ye, Sandy," she explained. A cruel expression set Sandy's large, sensuous mouth. "Ye'll be glad to go with me when I git done with ye." He placed his gun against the chair and stood up.
To make Syrup of any flower: Clip your flowers, and take their weight in sugar; then take a high gallipot, and a row of flowers, and a strewing of sugar, till the pot is full; then put in two or three spoonfuls of the same syrup or still'd water; tye a cloth on the top of the pot, and put a tile on that, and set your gallipot in a kettle of water over a gentle fire, and let it infuse till the strength is out of the flowers, which will be in four or five hours; then strain it thro' a flannel, and when 'tis cold bottle it up.
The lady learnt their creed; her heart seem'd hard She thought it so; and when the moment came To choose 'twixt love, young love, and pride of place, She still'd an unwonted feeling that would rise, And saying calmly: "I have got no heart, And love is vain!" she chose to be the wife Of sinful age, corruption, and untruth, Scorning the steadfast love of one who yearn'd To win her from the crooked paths she trod, And break the sordid chains that bound her soul, And sweep the defiling dust of common thoughts From out her mind, until it shone at last With large imaginings of God and good.
"To leave unseen so many a glorious sight, To leave so many lands unvisited, To leave so many books unread, Unrealized so many visions bright; Oh! wretched yet inevitable spite Of our short span, and we must yield our breath, And wrap us in the unfeeling coil of death, So much remaining of unproved delight, But hush, my soul, and vain regrets be still'd; Find rest in Him Who is the complement Of whatsoe'er transcends our mortal doom, Of broken hope and frustrated intent; In the clear vision and aspect of Whom All wishes and all longings are fulfill'd."
From whence proceeds, that when they come either whole or half drunk home, there is nothing well to their minds, but they will find one thing or another to controul, bawl or chide with. Some sorts of men, Are Tyrants when, Their thirsty Souls are fill'd: They scold sore hot Like Peep in th' Pot And never can be still'd.
But why do we of such small fears complain, With both the consuls greater Pompey ran, That Asia aw'd, in dire Hydaspes grown The only rock, its pyrates split upon; Whose third triumph o're earth made Jove afraid, Proud with success he'd next his Heaven invade: To whom the ocean yielding honours gave, And rougher Bosphorus humbly still'd his wave.
But I took a walk over two hours, the same woods and paths, amid the falling flakes. No wind, yet the musical low murmur through the pines, quite pronounced, curious, like waterfalls, now still'd, now pouring again. All the senses, sight, sound, smell, delicately gratified.
Would we might now give them the selfe same cause To call us soe. The very name of Drake Was a Bugbear to fright Children; Nurses still'd Their little Spanish Nynnyes when they cryde "Hush! the Drake comes." All this must needs beget Their mortall hate to us. It did; yet then We lovd them beyond measure. Why? Why, did not Spaine fetch gold from the West Indies for us To spend here merrily?
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