Norđurfari: or, rambles in Iceland

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Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1854 - Iceland - 252 pages
 

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Page 218 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him on wi
Page 49 - Fly fishing may be a very pleasant amusement ; but angling or float fishing, I can only compare to a stick and a string, with a worm at one end, and a, fool at the other.
Page 122 - He was the mildest manner'd man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat ; With such true breeding of a gentleman, You never could divine his real thought...
Page 194 - Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold. To Be, contents his natural desire, He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.
Page 103 - Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, And marvel men should quit their easy chair, The toilsome way, and long, long league to trace, Oh! there is sweetness in the mountain air, And Life, that bloated Ease can never hope to share.
Page 131 - Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will — Hor.: That is most certain.
Page 193 - Here she possesses a habitation protected by exceedingly high walls and strongly barred gates. Her hall is called Elvidnir ; Hunger is her table ; Starvation, her knife ; Delay, her man ; Slowness, her maid ; Precipice, her threshold ; Care, her bed ; and Burning Anguish forms the hangings of her apartments. The one half of her body is livid, the other half the colour of human flesh.
Page 114 - I've wander'd o'er, Clombe many a crag, cross'd many a moor, But, by my halidome, A scene so rude, so wild as this, Yet so sublime in barrenness, Ne'er did my wandering footsteps press, Where'er I happ'd to roam.
Page 36 - Ask where's the North? at York, 'tis on the Tweed; In Scotland, at the Orcades; and there, At Greenland, Zembla, or the Lord knows where.
Page 215 - Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 5 Sing, heavenly Muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, did'st inspire That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, Tn the beginning how the heavens and e,arth Rose out of chaos...

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