Sketches of History, Politics, and Manners, in Dublin, and the North of Ireland, in 1810

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Baldwin, Cradock, and Joy, 1826 - 355 psl.

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280 psl. - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; A breath can make them, as a breath has made: But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
308 psl. - How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure.
279 psl. - Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; And e'en those ills, that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
276 psl. - Intreat me not to leave thee, Or to return from following after thee : For whither thou goest, I will go ; And where thou lodgest, I will lodge : Thy people shall be my people, And thy God my God : Where thou diest, will I die, And there will I be buried : The LORD do so to me, and more also, If ought but death part thee and me.
276 psl. - Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from «• following after thee, for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
198 psl. - Knowest thou not this of old, since man was placed upon earth, That the triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of the hypocrite but for a moment?
340 psl. - It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men ; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better.
53 psl. - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th
72 psl. - This was the noblest Roman of them all; All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, 'This was a man!
197 psl. - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

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