The East coast of England, from the Thames to the Tweed

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E. Stanford, 1861 - 398 Seiten
 

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Seite 369 - And may at last my weary age Find. out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell, Of every star that Heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew; Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Seite 48 - Here a grave Flora scarcely deigns to bloom, Nor wears a rosy blush, nor sheds perfume ; . The few dull flowers that o'er the place are spread Partake the nature of their fenny bed; Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom, Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume; Here the dwarf sallows creep, the septfoil harsh, And the soft slimy mallow of the marsh; Low on the ear the distant billows sound, And just in view appears their stony bound ; No hedge nor tree conceals the glowing sun, Birds, save a wat'ry...
Seite 34 - Where the thin harvest waves its wither'd ears; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war ; There poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil...
Seite 223 - They told, how in their convent cell A Saxon princess once did dwell, The lovely Edelfled; And how, of thousand snakes, each one Was changed into a coil of stone, When holy Hilda prayed ; Themselves, within their holy bound, Their stony folds had often found. They told, how sea-fowls...
Seite 375 - The tide did now its floodmark gain, And girdled in the saint's domain: For, with the flow and ebb, its style Varies from continent to isle; Dry-shod, o'er sands, twice every day, The pilgrims to the shrine find way; Twice every day, the waves efface Of staves and sandalled feet the trace.
Seite ix - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven...
Seite 344 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty,* frieze, Buttress, nor coign* of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed...
Seite 324 - As slow I climb the cliff's ascending side, Much musing on the track of terror past, When o'er the dark wave rode the howling blast — Pleas'd I look back, and view the tranquil tide That laves the pebbled shore : and now the beam Of evening smiles on the grey battlement...
Seite 48 - Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom, Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume ; Here the dwarf sallows creep, the septfoil harsh, And the soft slimy mallow of the marsh ; Low on the ear the distant billows sound, And just in view appears their stony bound ; No hedge nor tree conceals the glowing sun ; Birds, save a watery tribe, the district shun, Nor chirp among the reeds, where bitter waters run. ' Various as beauteous, Nature, is thy face...
Seite 377 - With massive arches broad and round, That rose alternate, row and row, On ponderous columns, short and low, Built ere the art was known, By pointed aisle, and shafted stalk, The arcades of an alley'd walk To emulate in stone.

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