The Romance of Isabel Lady Burton: The Story of Her Life, Told in Part by Herself and in Part W.H. Wilkins

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Hutchinson & Company, 1898 - 778 pages
 

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Page 425 - Let us get up early to the vineyards ; Let us see if the vine flourish, whether the tender grape appear, And the pomegranates bud forth : There will I give thee my loves. The mandrakes give a smell, And at our gates are all manner of pleasant fruits, new and old, Which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.
Page 469 - Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion : for the time to favour her, yea, the set time, is come. 14 For thy servants take pleasure in her stones, and favour the dust thereof.
Page 448 - One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.
Page 156 - Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm...
Page 644 - Oh, bring us back once more The vanished days of yore, When the world with faith was filled; Bring back the fervid zeal, The hearts of fire and steel, The hands that believe and build.
Page 765 - And Elisha prayed, and said, LORD, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the LORD opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.
Page 510 - No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape ; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes : What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ! But who comes here ? Enter Escalus, Provost, Bawd, and Officers.
Page 698 - Life is a leaf of paper white Whereon each one of us may write His word or two, and then comes night. " Lo, time and space enough," we cry, " To write an epic ! " so we try Our nibs upon the edge, and die.
Page 604 - Lord ! to help and bless. The busy fingers fly, the eyes may see Only the glancing needle which they hold, But all my life is blossoming inwardly, And every breath is like a litany ; While through each labor, like a thread of gold, Is woven the sweet consciousness of Thee ! — Lfihorare Est Orare.
Page 150 - I shall never forget Richard as he was then ; he had had twenty-one attacks of fever, had been partially paralyzed and partially blind ; he was a mere skeleton, with brown yellow skin hanging in bags, his eyes protruding, and his lips drawn away from his teeth.

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