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Página 332 - And Cush begat Nimrod : he began to be a mighty one in the earth. He was a mighty hunter before the Lord : wherefore it is said, "Even as Nimrod the mighty hunter before the Lord.
Página 442 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Página 381 - Oh, I have done that a long time — a minute ago — and she has looked yes.
Página 456 - Their pointed bristles stare, or 'mong the tufts Of ranker weeds, each stomach-healing plant Curious they crop, sick, spiritless, forlorn. These inauspicious days, on other cares Employ thy precious hours; the improving friend With open arms embrace, and from his lips Glean science, seasoned with good-natured wit.
Página 125 - Wilt thou, Monimia, shed a gracious tear On the cold grave where all my sorrows rest ; Strew vernal flowers, applaud my love sincere, And bid the turf lie easy on my breast?
Página 444 - ... tongues and beavers' tails; and various luxuries from Montreal, all served up by experienced cooks brought for the purpose. There was no stint of generous wine, for it was a harddrinking period, a time of loyal toasts and bacchanalian songs, and brimming bumpers. "While...
Página 207 - And past those settlers' haunts the eye might roam Where earth's unliving silence all would seem ; Save where on rocks the beaver built his dome, Or buffalo remote low'd far from human home. But silent not that adverse eastern path,. Which saw Aurora's hills th...
Página 234 - NB — If the Jockey Club will be pleased to give me two hundred guineas, I will make them a bridle as I believe never was, and I believe can never * The word " manner " is knowing, putting, keeping self and horse in the best of attitudes.
Página 456 - At eve forebode a blustering stormy day, Or lowering clouds blacken the mountain's brow, When nipping frosts, and the keen biting blasts Of the dry parching east, menace the trees With tender blossoms teeming, kindly spare Thy sleeping pack, in their warm beds of straw...