A Cotswold Village; Or, Country Life and Pursuits in Gloucestershire

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J. Murray, 1899 - 431
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Strona 52 - tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o...
Strona 402 - Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. cvi Ring out old shapes of foul disease ; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Strona 233 - As, in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him...
Strona 170 - Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! the very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still!
Strona 404 - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every beast keep holiday; Thou Child of Joy, Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy!
Strona 259 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in,...
Strona 409 - There are also celestial bodies, and bodies terrestrial; but the glory of the celestial is one, and the glory of the terrestrial is another.
Strona 243 - A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world. Then murmur'd Arthur, 'Place me in the barge,
Strona 17 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Strona 256 - Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood : To the which place a poor ^sequester'd stag, That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt...

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