The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs, and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in Past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Months, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac ... for Daily Use and Diversio, Volum 1
R. Griffin and Company, 1839
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Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Every-day Book and Table Book: Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volum 1
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1838
The Every-Day Book and Table Book; Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular ...
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1830
The Every-day Book, and Table Book; Or, Everlasting Calendar of ..., Volum 1
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1826
Frases i termes mÚs freqŘents
according ancient appeared arms attended beautiful bishop body Book boys brought called carried cause church common continued court cross custom death Dedicated to St desired died dogs door England eyes fair fall feeling feet fire FLORAL DIRECTORY flowers four gave give hand head heart holy honour hour John kind king lady late leave letter light lion lived London look lord manner March master means mind month morning nature never night observed passed performed persons play poor present printed received remain remarkable round saint says season seems seen side stand street Sunday taken thing thou till tion took town trees turned walk whole young
PÓgina 805 - Cameron's gathering" rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
PÓgina 653 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise...
PÓgina 719 - The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar, now, See where the victor victim bleeds : All heads must come To the cold tomb : Only the actions of the just Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.
PÓgina 805 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
PÓgina 805 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell ; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! XXII.
PÓgina 137 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon ; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint : She seem'da splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for heaven : Porphyro grew faint : She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.
PÓgina 389 - What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year? Delightful visitant ! with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet, From birds among the bowers.
PÓgina 389 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
PÓgina 137 - No uttered syllable, or, woe betide! But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.
PÓgina 719 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.