"Thereout" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... little forest, there will he abide all night, but the day he prowleth by straight and winding ways. He devoureth man and beast alike, nor may I tell ye the marvels I have heard concerning him. He hath laid waste a broad land, and driven thereout all the country-folk, so that none remain. Now have I told ye the truth concerning these two roads, and what may befall ye therein; for the third, it leadeth hereby to the sea coast; I know not what I ...
— The Romance of Morien • Jessie L. Weston
... her sacred Booke, with blood ywrit, That none could read, except she did them teach, She unto him disclosed every whit, 165 And heavenly documents thereout did preach, That weaker wit of man could never reach, Of God, of grace, of justice, of free will, That wonder was to heare her goodly speach: For she was able with her words to kill, 170 And raise againe to life the ...
— Spenser's The Faerie Queene, Book I • Edmund Spenser
... Dame Swanelil, So cunning a trick she played; She took thereout the ruddy gold all, And herself in the chest ...
— Young Swaigder, or The Force of Runes - and Other Ballads • Anonymous
... both honour the garden in which they are planted, and the gardener that hath so disposed of them. From the hyssop in the wall, to the cedar in Lebanon, their fruit is their glory. 3 And seeing the stock into which we are planted, is the fruitfullest stock, the sap conveyed thereout the fruitfullest sap, and the dresser of our souls the wisest husbandman, (John 15:1) how contrary to nature, to example, and expectation, should we be, if we should not ...
— The Works of John Bunyan • John Bunyan
... hand all about groping and grasping, he seeketh all about his way with his hand and with his staff. Seldom he doth aught securely, well nigh always he doubteth and dreadeth. Also the blind man when he lieth or sitteth thereout, he weeneth that he is under covert; and ofttimes he thinketh himself ...
— Mediaeval Lore from Bartholomew Anglicus • Robert Steele
... glimmers in the shade Of yonder silent colonnade, Over against the slates that hold Marie in lines of slender gold, A token wrought by fictive fingers, A garland, last year's offering, lingers, Hung out of reach, and facing north. And lo! thereout a wren flies forth, And Gertrude, straining on toetips, Just touches with her prayerful lips The warm home which a bird unskilled In grief and hope knows ...
— Ionica • William Cory (AKA William Johnson) |
