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Updated: June 12, 2025
This is the great sense of surety that the poet Clough had in mind, when he wrote those wonderfully fine words: "It fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so; That howsoe'er I stray or range, Whate'er I do, thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, thou dost not fall."
But howsoe'er that may be, my father, I know, would not like me to submit to the implication of fear; albeit I would not harm the lad even though he be the son of my father's enemy." Through the watches of the night the question of swordsmanship troubled her, and when the morning came she had reached no solution of the difficulty.
'And proud and bold, My way I hold; For o'er me high I see, In night's deep blue, My star shine true, And fortune beams on me. 'Now onward still, Thro' dark and chill, My lonely way must be; In vain regret, My star will set, And fortune's dark for me. 'And whether glad, Or proud, or sad, Or howsoe'er I be; In dawn or noon, Or setting soon, My star, I'll follow thee.
Their prayers had unnerved him, had got into that corner of his nature where youth and its irresponsibility loitered yet. For a moment he was shaken, and then, looking into the faces of the Elders, said: "Friends, I go again upon paths that lead into the wilderness. I know not if I ever shall return. Howsoe'er that may be, I shall walk with firmer step because of all ye do for me."
"Yet this is still too general an account of yourself, to say the least of it, to establish your credit with a stranger." "It is all I mean to give, howsoe'er; you may choose to follow me, or to remain without the information I desire to afford you." "Can you not give me that information here?" I demanded.
"Yet this is still too general an account of yourself, to say the least of it, to establish your credit with a stranger." "It is all I mean to give, howsoe'er; you may choose to follow me, or to remain without the information I desire to afford you." "Can you not give me that information here?" I demanded.
Then goodly Achilles brake in on him and answered: "Yea, for I should be called coward and man of naught, if I yield to thee in every matter, howsoe'er thou bid. Know that not by violence will I strive for the damsel's sake, neither with thee nor any other; ye gave and ye have taken away.
"How many yards of glory shall it take to cover his Grace?" whispered one of the irreverent varlets behind them. "Howsoe'er, little matter," pursued the Duke. "I can scantly go higher than I am: wherefore howso I leave the field, little reck I." Hugh Calverley looked up earnestly at his master.
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