list

1. Gent[leman]. Well: there went but a paire of ſheeres betweene vs. / Luc[io]. I grant: as there may betweene the Liſts, and the Veluet. Thou art the Liſt. / 1. Gent. And thou the Veluet. Thou art good Veluet; thou'rt a three pild-piece I warrant thee: I had as liefe be a Lyſt of an Engliſh Kerſey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French Veluet. Do I ſpeake feelingly now?

1st Gentleman. Well, you and I are cut from the same cloth. / Lucio. I agree: just as the lists [scraps from the edge of the cloth] and the velvet are from the same cloth. You are the list. / 1st Gentleman. And you are the velvet. You are good velvet; you are a three-piled piece, I'll bet. I would willingly be a list of an English kersey, than be full of piles [haemorrhoids], as you are piled, like a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now?

Previous to the offering up of prayer, however, the persons chosen for this office [of praying for the people] had divested themselves of their boots and put on list slippers, their hands being washed by "the descendants of Levi" at a basin near the Holy of Holies.

Natures that haue much Heat, and great and violent deſires and Perturbations, are not ripe for Action, till they haue paſſed the Meridian of their yeares: As it was with Iulius Cæſar, and Septimius Seuerus. […] And yet he [Septimus Severus] was the Ableſt Emperour, almoſt, of all the Liſt.

On pain of death, no person be so bold

Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,

Except the marshal and such officers

Appointed to direct these fair designs.

Come, stack arms, Men! Pile on the rails; stir up the campfire bright; no matter if the canteen fails, we'll make a roaring night. Here Shenandoah brawls along, there burly Blue Ridge echoes strong, to swell the Brigade's rousing song, of “Stonewall Jackson’s Way.”

We see him now — the old slouched hat cocked o’er his eye askew, the shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat, so calm, so blunt, so true. The “Blue-Light Elder” knows ’em well; says he, “That’s Banks — he’s fond of shell; Lord save his soul! We’ll give him” — well, that’s “Stonewall Jackson’s Way.”

Silence! Ground arms! Kneel all! Caps off! Old Blue Light’s going to pray. Strangle the fool that dares to scoff: Attention! 'Tis his way. Appealing from his native sod in forma pauperis to God: “Lay bare thine arm, stretch forth thy rod! Amen!” That’s “Stonewall’s Way.”

He’s in the saddle now. Fall in! Steady, the whole brigade! Hill’s at the ford, cut off — we’ll win his way out, ball and blade! What matter if our shoes are worn? What matter if our feet are torn? “Quick step! We’re with him before the morn!” That’s “Stonewall Jackson’s Way.”

The sun’s bright lances rout the mists of morning, and by George! Here’s Longstreet struggling in the lists, hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his Yankees, whipped before, “Bay’nets and grape!” hear Stonewall roar; “Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby’s score!” in “Stonewall Jackson’s Way.”

Ah! Maiden, wait and watch and yearn for news of Stonewall’s band! Ah! Widow read with eyes that burn that ring upon thy hand. Ah! Wife, sew on, pray on, hope on! Thy life shall not be all forlorn. The foe had better ne’er been born that gets in “Stonewall’s Way.”

Lisp is an applicative language. This means that it is structured around applying functions (operations) to a linked list of arguments that accompany those functions. […] A function call or function definition is only coded in the syntax of a list, which can be of an indefinite length. Thus, the list is the only data structure for a Lisp program.

STRIÆ, in ancient architecture, the liſts, fillets or rays which ſeparate the ſtriges or flutings of columns.

Thus the Aſſe having a peculiar mark of a croſſe made by a black liſt down his back, and another athwart, or at right angles down his ſhoulders; common opinion aſcribes this figure unto a peculiar ſignation; ſince that beaſt had the honour to bear our Saviour on his back.

[W]ere it good / […] to ſet ſo rich a maine / On the nice hazard of one doubtfull houre? / It were not good for therein ſhould we read / The very bottome and the ſoule of hope, / The very liſt, the very vtmost bound / Of all our fortunes.

Is it good / […] to place so high a stake / On the risky hazard of one doubtful hour? / No, it would be no good for we would read into it that we had reached / The end of our hope, / The very limit, the very utmost boundary / Of all our luck.