This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1860 Excerpt: ...where the mind to heaven's will gives its yea. But help lies most of all in all low aims refusing, All aims that or darken or narrow true sight, Great gains have an obverse always of great losing. Who seeks the world's goods must conform to its using, Great vision and power are the gifts of high choosing. Beyond the ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1860 Excerpt: ...where the mind to heaven's will gives its yea. But help lies most of all in all low aims refusing, All aims that or darken or narrow true sight, Great gains have an obverse always of great losing. Who seeks the world's goods must conform to its using, Great vision and power are the gifts of high choosing. Beyond the world's shade there's perpetual light. KING JOHN OF BOHEMIA. 11 Johann was blind but he had good ideas in war. At the battle of Crecy, on the 24th of August, 1346f he advised we know not what; but he actually fought, though stone blind, tied his bridle to that of the Knight next him, and charged in, like an old blind war-horse, kindling madly at the sound of the trumpet, and was there, by some English lance or yew, laid low. They found him on that field of carnage (field of honour too, in a sort, ) his old blind face looking very blindly to the stars; on his shield was blazoned a plume of three Ostrich feathers, with Ich Dim (I serve) written under.--caulylk's Fbikdbick or Prussia, Vol. I., p. 168-9. King John of Bohemia, old and blind, From battle would not be left behind, His steed to another's rein he had tied, And old and blind he the foe defied, "Ich Dien" the word he wore. "I serve," his motto, and nobly kept, He might have stayed at home and wept His froward fate, or drunk his wine In courtly quiet, with soul supine, But a brave man needs must fight. Face to face he met the foe; Firing the young with his hairs of snow, And kindling in all with those sightless eyes The glory of glorious destinies, As our thoughts can well conceive. That night among the slain he lay, Among the brave who lost that day His pure white plume of feathers three, And his motto kept so faithfully, Distinguishing him dead. tTo word remains to tell...
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