Wanderings and Excursions in South Wales:: With the Scenery of the River Wye

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Longman; Simpkin; Bogue; Orr. Wrightson and Webb, Birmingham; Webb, Liverpool., 1844 - 284 pages

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Page 124 - But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din Of towns and cities, I have owed to them In hours of weariness, sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart; And passing even into my purer mind, With tranquil restoration...
Page 177 - If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget, If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go to the woods and hills! — No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Page 94 - Or in proud falls magnificently lost, But clear and artless, pouring through the plain Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows ? Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? Who tanght that heaven-directed spire to rise ?
Page 199 - O' th' chrysolite, And a sky Of diamonds, rubies, chrysoprase, And, above all, thy holy face Makes an eternal clarity. When thou thy jewels up dost bind, — that day Remember us, we pray, — That where the beryl lies And the crystal, 'bove the skies, There thou may'st appoint us place Within the brightness of thy face ; And our soul In the scroll . . Of life and blissfulness enrol, That we may praise thee to eternity.
Page 65 - Oh to abide in the desert with thee! Wild is thy lay and loud, Far in the downy cloud Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. Where, on thy dewy wing, Where art thou journeying? Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
Page 192 - While the yellow linnet sings ; Or the tuneful nightingale Charms the forest with her tale; Come, with all thy various hues, Come, and aid thy sister Muse...
Page 202 - Let him that is a true-born gentleman, And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth, From on this brier pluck a white rose with me. Som. Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
Page 225 - Yes — Coventry is dead. Attend the strain, Daughters of Albion! ye that, light as air, So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train, With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair : For she was fair beyond your brightest bloom ; (This envy owns, since now her bloom is fled ;) Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, Float in light vision round the poet's head. Whene'er with soft serenity she smil'd, Or caught the orient blush of quick surprise.
Page 257 - And oft the craggy cliff he loved to climb, When all in mist the world below was lost. What dreadful pleasure ! there to stand sublime, Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast, And view th...
Page 187 - Savage then imagined his task over, and expected that Sir Richard would call for the reckoning, and return home ; but his expectations deceived him, for Sir Richard told him that he was without money, and that the pamphlet must be sold before the dinner could be paid for ; and Savage was therefore obliged to go and offer their new production to sale for two guineas, which with some difficulty he obtained.

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