The Works of Thomas De Quincey, "The English Opium Eater": Including All His Contributions to Periodical Literature, Bind 3

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A. and C. Black, 1871

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Side 329 - A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.
Side 218 - Hindoos," that exercised even princely power both in Lorraine and in the German Diets. These had their sweet bells that pierced the forests for many a league at matins or vespers, and each its own dreamy legend. Few enough, and scattered enough, were these abbeys, so as in no degree to disturb the deep solitude of the region ; yet many enough to spread a network or awning of Christian sanctity over what else might have seemed a heathen wilderness.
Side 206 - WHAT is to be thought of her? What is to be thought of the poor shepherd girl from the hills and forests of Lorraine, that — like the Hebrew shepherd boy from the hills and forests of Judea — rose suddenly out of the quiet, out of the safety, out of the religious inspiration, rooted in deep pastoral solitudes, to a station in the van of armies, and to the more perilous station at the right hand of kings?
Side 196 - God called up from dreams a man into the vestibule of heaven, saying, ' Come thou hither, and see the glory of my house.' And to the servants that stood around his throne he said, 'Take him, and undress him from his robes of flesh : cleanse his vision, and put a new breath into his nostrils : arm him with sail-broad wings for flight. Only touch not with any change his human heart — the heart that weeps and trembles.
Side 242 - Wrapped up in his sublime office, he saw not the danger, but still persisted in his prayers. Even then, when the last enemy was racing up the fiery stairs to seize her, even at that moment did this noblest of girls think only for him, the one friend that would not forsake her, and not for herself; bidding him with her last breath to care for his own preservation, but to leave her to God.
Side 197 - ... by spans — that seemed ghostly from infinitude. Without measure were the architraves, past number were the archways, beyond memory the gates. Within were stairs that scaled the eternities below ! Above was below, below was above, to the man stripped of gravitating body ; depth was swallowed up in height insurmountable, height was swallowed up in depth unfathomable.
Side 197 - It was done : and, with a mighty angel for his guide, the man stood ready for his infinite voyage ; and from the terraces of heaven, without sound or farewell, at once they wheeled away into endless space. Sometimes with the solemn flight of angel...
Side 245 - Is it, indeed, come to this? Alas, the time is short, the tumult is wondrous, the crowd stretches away into infinity, but yet I will search in it for somebody to take your brief: I know of somebody that will be your counsel. Who is this that cometh from Domremy? Who is she in bloody coronation robes from Rheims? Who is she that cometh with blackened flesh from walking the furnaces of Rouen? This is she, the shepherd girl, counselor that had none for herself, whom I choose, bishop, for yours.
Side 277 - Is it a party in a parlour, Crammed just as they on earth were crammed, Some sipping punch — some sipping tea, But, as you by their faces see, All silent, and all damned ! Peter Bell, by W.
Side 312 - Je me dis : Je m'en vais jeter cette pierre contre l'arbre qui est vis-à-vis de moi; si je le touche, signe de salut ; si je le manque, signe de damnation.

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