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Visits to Remarkable Places: Old Halls, Battle Fields, and Scenes ..., Volum 1
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1854
Visits to Remarkable Places: Old Halls, Battle Fields, and Scenes ..., Volum 2
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1854
admiration amongst ancient appears arms battle beauty better building built called castle cause celebrated chapel character Charles church court cross crown curious daughter delightful Earl effect Elizabeth England English fact fair father feeling feet field figures fine front garden give going green hall hand head heart Henry hills hundred imagination interest Italy John king lady land living London look Lord miles mind nature never noble once paintings palace passed perhaps persons poet poetry portraits present Prince Queen received remains rich round royal says scene seat seemed seen Shakspeare shew side Sidney spirit stands stone stood style thing Thomas tomb tower trees walk walls whole woods young
PÓgina 261 - Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee, Say, Wolsey — that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor...
PÓgina 89 - O! for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdu'd To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
PÓgina 256 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
PÓgina 89 - Now all is done, have what shall have no end: Mine appetite I never more will grind On newer proof, to try an older friend, A god in love, to whom I am confined. Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best, Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
PÓgina 87 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
PÓgina 193 - Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring ; The stubborn spear-men still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell. No thought was there of dastard flight ; Linked in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well ; Till utter darkness closed her wing O'er their thin host and wounded King.
PÓgina 363 - We were now treading that illustrious island, which was once the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate...
PÓgina 15 - The early cherry, with the later plum, Fig, grape, and quince, each in his time doth come ; The blushing apricot and woolly peach Hang on thy walls, that every child may reach.
PÓgina 213 - A name which it took of yore : A thousand years hath it borne that name, And shall, a thousand more. And hither is young Romilly come, And what may now forbid That he, perhaps for the hundredth time, Shall bound across THE STRID ? He sprang in glee,— for what cared he That the River was strong and the rocks were steep ? — But the Greyhound in the leash hung back, And checked him in his leap. The Boy is in the arms of Wharf, And strangled by a merciless force ; For never more was young Romilly...