Waverley Novels, Volume 44

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Robert Cadell, Edinburgh, and Whittaker & Company London., 1833
 

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Page 3 - The mists boil up around the glaciers ; clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, Like foam from the roused ocean of deep Hell, Whose every wave breaks on a living shore, Heap'd with the damn'd like pebbles.
Page 12 - Judea, had here found the termination of his impious life ; having, after spending years in the recesses of that mountain which bears his name, at length, in remorse and despair, rather than in penitence, plunged into the dismal lake which occupies the summit. Whether water refused to do the executioner's duty upon such a wretch, or whether, his body being drowned, his vexed spirit continued to haunt the place where he committed suicide, Antonio did not pretend to explain. But a form was often, he...
Page 45 - To every distant mart and wealthy town. Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea ; And are we only yet repaid by thee ? Ah ! why was ruin...

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