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O, Woman! in our hours of ease,Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,And variable as the shadeBy the light quivering aspen made;When pain and anguish wring the brow,A ministering angel thou!
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Each age has deemed the new-born year the fittest time for festal cheer.
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Many miles away there's a shadow on the door of a cottage on the Shore of a dark Scottish lake.
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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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Look back, and smile on perils past.
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The stag at eve had drunk his fill,Where danced the moon on Monan's rill,And deep his midnight lair had madeIn lone Glenartney's hazel shade.
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To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
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Still are the thoughts to memory dear.
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Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.
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Pride and jealousy there was in his eye, for his life had been spent in asserting rights which were constantly liable to invasion; and the prompt, fiery, and resolute disposition of the man, had been kept constantly upon the alert by the circumstances of his situation.
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Her blue eyes sought the west afar,For lovers love the western star.
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'What remains?' cried Ivanhoe; 'Glory, maiden, glory! which gilds our sepulchre and embalms our name.'
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England was merry England, whenOld Christmas brought his sports again.‘Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale;‘Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;A Christmas gambol oft could cheerThe poor man’s heart through half the year.
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Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking;Dream of battled fields no more,Days of danger, nights of waking.
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A foot more light, a step more true,Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew.
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How pleasant it is for a father to sit at his child's board. It is like an aged man reclining under the shadow of an oak which he has planted.
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Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life.
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We build statues out of snow, and weep to see them melt.
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Widowed wife and wedded maid.
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What is a diary as a rule? A document useful to the person who keeps it. Dull to the contemporary who reads it and invaluable to the student, centuries afterwards, who treasures it.
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Of all vices, drinking is the most incompatible with greatness.
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War's a fearsome thing. They'll be cunning that catches me at this wark again.
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For ne'erWas flattery lost on poet's ear:A simple race! they waste their toilFor the vain tribute of a smile.
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Rouse the lion from his lair.