The Old Hall, Or, Our Hearth and Homestead, Band 2

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T.C. Newby, 1845

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Seite 278 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!
Seite 192 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain; But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.
Seite 299 - The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades That drag the tragic, melancholy night, Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws Breathe foul, contagious darkness in the air.
Seite 249 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Seite 51 - I must beg of you, sir, to be quiet. It is far from my wish to say any thing that might offend or wound the feelings of the humblest individual who joins my hounds, but I will not permit unsportsmanlike conduct to pass uncensured.
Seite 51 - In a few minutes the hounds again pressed the unwilling fox from the thicket, and...
Seite 280 - I'm sorry it should be my lot Ever to disoblige my gossip Trot: Yet 't'en't my fault; but so 'tis Fortune tries one, To make his meat become his neighbour's poison; And so we pray for winds upon this coast, By which on t'other navies may be lost. Therefore in patience rest, though I proceed: There's no ill-nature in the case, but need. Though for your use this water will not serve, I'd rather you should choak, than I should starve.
Seite 280 - Lord, if you knew but how the people rail ! " They cannot boil, nor wash, nor rinse they say, " With water, sometimes ink, and sometimes whey, " According as you meet with mud or clay.
Seite 76 - AT the entrance of Job Sykes's cottage, was one of those little rural arches composed of lattice work, over which honeysuckle and woodbine crept, and in the summer evenings this was a favourite spot for the huntsman to sit and smoke his well-loved pipe in, secure from the alloy to the pleasure of Mrs. Sykes's tongue.
Seite 54 - I'll lift ye there or thereabouts if the run lasts till midnight." " No, no," rejoined the Squire smiling. " Go, my boy, ride and stick close to their sterns as you can, as you should, and as I love to see ye." Without further remark, our hero slackened his reins, and, leaning slightly forwards in his saddle, away his horse went like a bird on wing, and skimmed the ground so lightly, that he appeared not to touch it in his dainty tread. " Mike !" said John Hardy. " Sir," replied his attendant, lifting...

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