My panting heart Could not resist the strong misboding throbs, That rack'd my breast.

Midrash was not a purely intellectual pursuit and study was never an end in itself: it had to inspire practical action in the world.

There was another pause, and then came a dozen open cars jamful with ruffians in large hats, covered with fire-arms.

Hail! every distant hill, and downland plain! Your dew-hid beauties Fancy oft unveils;