Press on! for it is godlike to unloose The spirit, and forget yourself in thought; Bending a pinion for the deeper sky, And, in the very fetters of your flesh, Mating with the pure essences of heaven!

Alison had a mouthful of warm, rather fusty wine and lay back on the grass, cupping the back of her head in her hand.

And þat is þe professioun appertly · þat appendeth for knyȝtes.

Each of the robbers took a share of the loot.