Northern Europe

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Lee and Shepard, 1897 - Europe - 353 pages

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Page 136 - For saddle-tree scarce reached had he, His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in. So down he came ; for loss of time, Although...
Page 227 - The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among; Rising and leaping, Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and wringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting Around and around With endless rebound: Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Page 262 - Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long : And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Page 39 - Sweet Innisfallen, long shall dwell In memory's dream that sunny smile Which o'er thee on that evening fell, When first I saw thy fairy isle.
Page 183 - In the same pious confidence, beside her friend and sister, here sleep the remains of Dorothy Gray, widow, the careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her.
Page 250 - Nations, and thrones, and reverend laws, have melted like a dream ; Yet Wykeham's works are green and fresh beside the crystal stream. Four hundred years and fifty their rolling course have sped Since the first serge-clad scholar to Wykeham's feet was led ; And still his seventy faithful boys, in these presumptuous days, Learn the old...
Page 32 - Tis there the daisy, and the sweet carnation, The blooming pink, and the rose so fair; Likewise the lily, and the daffodilly — All flowers that scent the sweet, fragrant air.
Page 222 - Not raised in nice proportions was the pile, But large and massy ; for duration built ; With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld By naked rafters intricately crossed, Like leafless underboughs, 'mid some thick grove, All withered by the depth of shade above.
Page 186 - Leave to the nightingale her shady wood; A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with instinct more divine; Type of the wise who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!
Page 195 - Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross, To see a fine lady ride on a white horse, Rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes, She shall have music wherever she goes.

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