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Updated: May 6, 2025
O, but they are clothed with godliness; the image and presence of God is upon them. This makes the beasts of this world afraid. "One of you shall chase a thousand." The ornament and beauty of this lower world, next to God and his wonders, are the men that spangle and shine in godliness. "The whole family in heaven, and earth."
Spangle!" song, and David Songsparrow was singing his seven morning songs, and even Jeremiah Yellowbird was doing his best to make his little voice ring through the woods as Robert Robin's mellow notes had sounded a moment before. But Robert Robin was not listening to the other birds, he was looking to see what he could see.
Whereupon the burly old shipowner frowned and puffed. Constance, he said, had plunged into these new spangle, candle and high singing services; was all for symbols, harps, effigies, what not. Lady Wathin's countenance froze in hearing of it. She led Mr.
Then he carefully replugged the bullet-hole, took up the oars again, and once more began to row. He rowed, always keeping his bow towards the far-off spangle of lights which showed where the Trunella lay at anchor. He rowed doggedly, determinedly. He rowed until his arms were tired and his back ached. But still he did not stop.
There, amid the long hairs of the bearskin, he came upon one other spangle, and knew that the woman in the shiny clothes had stooped there before him. Satisfied on this point, he returned to the table, and this time subjected it to a thorough and minute examination.
and when Winter comes, and there is neither opening buds, green foliage, or ripening fruit, nor gorgeous frost-tints upon the leaves, I look through the bare branches of the trees better than I could in spring, summer and autumn, and lo, how beautiful are the stars that spangle the heavens and twinkle in the pale light of the moon, with maiden face sweeping through the heavens, veiled with fleecy clouds, like the bridesmaid of heaven, to direct our thoughts to the celestial city to meet the great Author of our creation.
"Here are half a score of stout Burgundian yeomen at the door, with whom He of Crevecoeur has furnished me to that effect. For know that my friend Charles of Burgundy and I have not taken away our kinsman Louis's crown, which he was ass enough to put into our power, but have only filed and clipt it a little, and, though reduced to the size of a spangle, it is still pure gold.
"This mournful darkness, this endless shroud, in which we can discover neither rent nor spangle, still continues. Where are we? Over what strange country, possessing neither cities, towns, nor villages, are we hovering in the tomb-like silence of this interminable darkness? We seem, indeed, to have been carried by a puff of wind towards the west. "But something seems to approach us.
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