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Yea, bitter was her vengeance on her kinsmen that slew him, and by reason of his death died many a mother's son. Second Adventure Concerning Siegfried There grew up in the Netherland a rich king's child, whose father hight Siegmund and his mother Sieglind, in a castle high and famous called Xanten, down by the Rhine's side.
Burgundy "in all its sunset glow" is rum. Champagne, "the foaming wine of Eastern France," in rum. Hock, which our friend, the Poet, speaks of as "The Rhine's breastmilk, gushing cold and bright, Pale as the moon, and maddening as her light," is rum. Sir, I repudiate the loathsome vulgarism as an insult to the first miracle wrought by the Founder of our religion! I address myself to the company.
I know your game. And I know the game of the hell's maggots under our feet this minute. 'Tis they that'd desert in the boats. 'Tis you that'll smash the boats an' jail 'm kit an' crew." "S-s-s-h," I vainly interpolated. "What of it?" he went on as loudly as ever. "They're sleepin' with full bellies. The only night watch we keep is the lookout. Even Rhine's asleep.
The Rhine's gay stream has a gory gleam, The cloister's nests are robbed by roysters; The church-lands now are changed to lurch-lands; Abbacies, and all other holy foundations Now are but robber-sees rogues' habitations. And thus is each once-blest German state, Deep sunk in the gloom of the desolate! Whence comes all this?
It never entered his head that he was not the master of the rabble there below him. He had but one idea, an idea of passion, and that was his desire for vengeance on the murderer of his old skipper. "You old stiff!" Mulligan Jacobs snarled back. "Shut up, Mulligan!" was Bert Rhine's command, in receipt of which he received a venomous stare from the cripple. "Oh, ho, my hearty," Mr.
I was saturated from early association and close investigation and reading with the crises of the Revolutionary War, which were successfully decided on the patriots' side on the banks of the Hudson. I lived near Washington Irving, and his works I knew by heart, especially the tales which gave to the Hudson a romance like the Rhine's.
The boatman feels his bosom With a nameless longing move; He sees not the gulfs before him, His gaze is fixed above. Till over boat and boatman The Rhine's deep waters run; And this with her magic singing The Lorelei hath done! So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea.
"Shut your face, Davis!" came out from Bert Rhine's bandages. Kid Twist drew a revolver, shoved the muzzle of it first into Bombini's side, then covered the men about the Jew. Really, I felt a momentary twinge of pity for the Italian. He was caught between the mill-stones, "Bombini, stick that Jew," Bert Rhine commanded.
A trained eye advancing on the copse would hardly mark the glimmer of the turrets over the topmost leaves, but to every loophole of the walls lies bare the circuit of the land. Werner could rule with a glance the Rhine's course down from the broad rock over Coblentz to the white tower of Andernach.
And your darkness'll be as dark as mine." "A full belly puts the spunk back into you," I sneered. "'Tis on an empty belly that the juice of my dislike turns to acid. Go on an' smash the boats." "Whose idea was the sulphur?" I asked. "I'm not tellin' you the man, but I envied him until it showed failure. An' whose idea was it to douse the sulphuric into Rhine's face?
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