The Reliquary, Volumen7

John Russell Smith, 1866
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Página 81 - Live while you live, the Epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day. Live while you live, the sacred Preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies.
Página 119 - A Choice of Emblemes, and other Devises, for the moste parte gathered out of sundrie writers, Englished and Moralized, And divers newly devised, by Geffrey Whitney.
Página 12 - Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle Is sung, but breaks off in the middle. When civil fury first grew high, And men fell out, they knew not why; When hard words, jealousies, and fears, Set folks together by the ears...
Página 234 - Gules, a lion rampant or. 16. ROBERT UFFORD, Earl of Suffolk, Sable, a cross engrailed or. 17. EDWARD, Lord Spencer — Quarterly azure and gules, in the second and third a fret or, over all a bend sable. 18. REGINALD, Lord Cobham, Gules, on a chevron or, three estoiles sable.
Página 37 - One need not be a prophet to foretell that two hundred years hence Mr. Cooper's works will be more often cited than any other Cambridge books of our time.
Página 213 - While the captives lay in prison, the transaction reached the ears of that monarch. He immediately ordered them to be released and the captors to be put in their place : declaring that though he was at war with England, he was not at war with mankind.
Página 234 - Earl of Oxford, Quarterly, gules and or, in the first quarter a mullet argent. 32. WILLIAM PHELIP, Lord Bardolph, Quarterly, gules and argent, in the first quarter, an eagle displayed or.
Página 104 - Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name; Go, search it there, where to be born and die, Of rich and poor makes all the history; Enough, that virtue filled the space between; Proved, by the ends of being, to have been.
Página 72 - I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast shewed unto thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am become two bands.
Página 227 - And thrust clods on his head, A joyful banquet then was made, When Barley-corn was dead. He rested still within the earth, Till rain from skies did fall, Then he grew up in branches green, Which sore amazed them all.

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