Pictures from English History: By the Great Historical Artists

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Coleman E. Bishop
Philips & Hunt, 1883 - 350 Seiten
 

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Seite 140 - Will I upon thy party wear this rose: And here I prophesy, — This brawl to-day, Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Seite 173 - Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.
Seite 241 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Seite 211 - You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!
Seite 200 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Seite 240 - I said to those who heard me first in America, " O brothers ! speaking the same dear mother tongue, — O comrades! enemies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as we stand by this royal corpse, and call a truce to battle! Low he lies to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who was cast lower than the poorest; dead, whom millions prayed for in vain.
Seite 159 - Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold, For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.
Seite 216 - There, says he, they are all dead, the man and his wife and five children. There, says he, they are shut up, you see a watchman at the door ; and so of other houses. Why...
Seite 86 - ... the spectators. The openings for the entry of the combatants were at the northern and southern extremities of the lists, accessible by strong wooden gates, each wide enough to admit two horsemen riding abreast. At each of these portals were stationed two heralds, attended by six trumpets, as many pursuivants...
Seite 214 - and said no more, but repeated those words continually, with a voice and countenance full of horror, a swift pace, and nobody could ever find him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, at least, that ever I could hear 'of. I met this poor creature several times in the streets, and would have spoken to him, but he would not enter into speech with me, or any one else, but held on his dismal cries continually.

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