The fortunes of Roger de Flor: or, The Almugavars

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Stran 16 - Look on me! there is an order Of mortals on the earth, who do become Old in their youth, and die ere middle age, Without the violence of warlike death...
Stran 38 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Stran 102 - Like chaff before the wind of heaven, The archery appear: For life ! for life ! their flight they ply— And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broad-swords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear.
Stran 178 - Alas ! the love of women ! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone...
Stran 171 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Stran 54 - For time at last sets all things even — And if we do but watch the hour, There never yet was human power Which could evade, if unforgiven, The patient search and vigil long Of him who treasures up a wrong.
Stran 54 - And now, my race of terror run, Mine be the eve of tropic Sun ! No pale gradations quench his ray, No twilight dews his wrath allay ; With disk like battle-target red, He rushes to his burning bed, Dyes the wide wave with bloody light, Then sinks at once — and all is night.
Stran 235 - As monumental bronze unchanged his look : A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook ; Train'd from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier ; The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook ' Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — ^ A stoic of the woods, a man. without a tear.
Stran 54 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen : Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Stran 71 - Tis not merely The human being's Pride that peoples space With life and mystical predominance ; Since likewise for the stricken heart of Love This visible nature, and this common world, Is all too narrow: yea, a deeper import Lurks in the legend told my infant years Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn.

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