Cheveley, Or, The Man of Honour, 2 tomas

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135 psl. - AH, Ben ! Say how, or when, Shall we thy guests Meet at those lyric feasts Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun...
213 psl. - Nevertheless I am continually with thee: thou hast holden me by my right hand. Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.
73 psl. - Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
189 psl. - No, no, no life : Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more. Never, never, never, never, never ! — Pray you undo this button : thank you, sir.
102 psl. - All the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of perseverance; it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united with canals.
130 psl. - So idly, that rapt fancy deemeth it A metaphor of peace ; all form a scene Where musing Solitude might love to lift Her soul above this sphere of earthliness ; Where Silence undisturbed might watch alone, So cold, so bright, so still.
40 psl. - It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion, and all made of wishes ; All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance
102 psl. - If a man was to compare the effect of a single stroke of the pick-axe, or of one impression of the spade, with the general design and last result, he would be overwhelmed by the sense of their disproportion ; yet those petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties, and mountains are levelled, and oceans bounded, by the slender force of human beings.
185 psl. - I am a knave, if I know what to say, What course to take, or which way to resolve. My brain, methinks, is like an hour-glass, ' Wherein my imaginations run like sands, Filling up time; but then are turn'd and turn'd: So that I know not what to stay upon, And less, to put in act.
92 psl. - Yet all this availeth me nothing, so long as I see Mordecai the Jew sitting at the king's gate.

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