The interdict [by I. Steward].

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Boone, 1840

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278 ÆäÀÌÁö - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things. There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
184 ÆäÀÌÁö - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
141 ÆäÀÌÁö - Convince the world that you're devout and true, Be just in all you say, and all you do ; Whatever be your birth, you're sure to be A peer of the first magnitude to me.
261 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tis the Geraldine's Daughter. Hush, hush ! have you heard what the banshee said ? Oh ! list to the echo ! she's dead ! ' she's dead ! ' No shadow now dims the face of the water ; Gone, gone is the wraith of the Geraldine's Daughter. The step of yon train is heavy and slow, There's wringing of hands, there's breathing of woe ; What melody rolls over mountain and water ? 'Tis the funeral chant for the Geraldine's Daughter.
261 ÆäÀÌÁö - What melody rolls over mountain and water? 'Tis the funeral chant for the Geraldine's Daughter. The requiem sounds like the plaintive moan Which the wind makes over the sepulchre's stone ; " Oh, why did she die ? our heart's blood had bought her! Oh, why did she die, the Geraldine's Daughter?
162 ÆäÀÌÁö - And you must kindly take it : It is no tale ; but, should you think, Perhaps a tale you'll make it.
126 ÆäÀÌÁö - LUTE My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow With thy green mother in some shady grove, When immelodious winds but made thee move, And birds their ramage did on thee bestow. Since that dear Voice which did thy sounds approve Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from Earth to tune those spheres above, What art thou but a harbinger of woe...
144 ÆäÀÌÁö - It is not but the tempest that doth show the sea-man's cunning, but the field that tries the captain's courage ; and we come to know best what men are, in their worst jeopardies.
279 ÆäÀÌÁö - Be useful where thou livest, that they may Both want, and wish thy pleasing presence still. Kindness, good parts, great places are the way To compass this. Find out men's wants and will, And meet them there. All worldly joys go less To the one joy of doing kindnesses.
40 ÆäÀÌÁö - THE turban'd Turk, who scorns the world. May strut about with his whiskers curled. Keep a hundred wives under lock and key, For nobody else but himself to see ; Yet long may he pray with his Alcoran Before he can love like an Irishman. The gay Monsieur, a slave no more, The solemn Don, the soft Signer, The Dutch Mynheer, so full of pride, The Russian, Prussian, Swede beside, — They all may do whate'er they can, But they'll never love like an Irishman. The London folks themselves beguile, And think...

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