Rambles by Yorkshire Rivers, Volum 6

1899 - 222 pàgines

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Pàgina 172 - ... adorned the beauty-burdened spray; Wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing, Lavished glory on that second May! High it rose — no winged grief could sweep it; Sin was scared to distance with its shine; Love, and its own life, had power to keep it From all wrong — from every blight but thine! Cruel Death! The young leaves droop and languish; Evening's gentle air may still restore — No! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish — Time, for me, must never blossom more! Strike it down, that...
Pàgina 142 - We are like children rear'd in shade Beneath some old-world abbey wall, Forgotten in a forest-glade, And secret from the eyes of all.
Pàgina 81 - ... all contemporary authors agree in ascribing to Mary the utmost beauty of countenance and elegance of shape of which the human form is capable. Her hair was black, though, according to the fashion of that age, she frequently wore borrowed locks, and of different colours. Her eyes were a dark grey, her complexion was exquisitely fine, and her hands and arms remarkably delicate, both as to shape and colour. Her stature was of a height that rose to the majestic.
Pàgina 48 - Dart their white heads, and glitter thro' the gloom. More happy still, if one superior rock Bear on its brow the shiver'd fragment huge Of some old Norman fortress ; happier far, Ah, then most happy, if thy vale below Wash, with the crystal coolness of its rills...
Pàgina 32 - Rear'd to the sun its pale grey breast ; Around its broken summit grew The hazel rude, and sable yew ; A thousand varied lichens dyed Its waste and weather-beaten side And round its rugged basis lay, By time or thunder rent away, Fragments, that, from its frontlet torn, Were mantled now by verdant thorn.
Pàgina 170 - A little and a lone green lane That opened on a common wide; A distant, dreamy, dim blue chain Of mountains circling every side. A heaven so clear, an earth so calm, So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air; And, deepening still the dream-like charm, Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.
Pàgina 215 - There was a poor old man Who sat and listened to the raging sea, And heard it thunder, lunging at the cliffs As like to tear them down. He lay at night ; And •' Lord have mercy on the lads," said he, "That sailed at noon, though they be none of mine, For when the gale gets up, and when the wind Flings at the window, when it beats the roof, And lulls and stops and rouses up again, And cuts the crest clean off the plunging wave, And scatters it like feathers up the field, Why then I think of my two...
Pàgina 158 - Thus I, easy philosopher, Among the birds and trees confer: And little now to make me, wants Or of the fowls, or of the plants. Give me but wings as they, and I Straight floating on the air shall fly: Or turn me but, and you shall see I was but an inverted tree.
Pàgina 81 - Her eyes were a dark gray, her complexion was exquisitely fine, and her hands and arms remarkably delicate, both as to shape and colour. Her stature was of a height that rose to the majestic. She danced, she walked, and rode with equal grace.
Pàgina 158 - And, where I language want, my signs The bird upon the bough divines, And more attentive there doth sit Than if she were with lime-twigs knit.

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