The Works of Mary Russell Mitford: Prose and Verse, Viz Our Village, Belford Regis, Country Stories, Finden's Tableaux, Foscari, Julian, Rienzi, Charles the First

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Page 342 - Loved the church so well, and gave so largely to't, They thought it should have canopied their bones Till doomsday ; but all things have their end : Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men, Must have like death that we have.
Page 419 - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Page 40 - He could not run division with more art Upon his quaking instrument, than she The nightingale did with her various notes Reply to.
Page 40 - To glorify their Tempe, bred in me Desire of visiting that paradise. To Thessaly I came ; and living private, Without acquaintance of more sweet companions Than the old inmates to my love, my thoughts, I day by day frequented silent groves And solitary walks.
Page 30 - ... like a young Diana, and a bounding, skimming, enjoying motion, as if native to the element, which might have become a Naiad. I have seen her on the topmost round of a ladder, with one foot on the roof of a house, flinging down the grapes that no one else had nerve enough to reach, laughing, and garlanded, and crowned with vine leaves, like a Bacchante. But the prettiest combination of circumstances under which I ever saw her, was driving a donkey cart up a hill one sunny windy day, in September.
Page 41 - Alas, poor creature, I will soon revenge This cruelty upon the author of it. Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood, Shall never more betray a harmless peace To an untimely end ;" and in that sorrow, As he was pashing it against a tree, I suddenly stept in.
Page 13 - She did, indeed, just hint at her troubles with visitors and servants, — how strange and sad it was ! seemed distressed at ringing the bell, and visibly shrank from the sound of a double knock. But, in spite of these calamities, Hannah is a happy woman. The double rap was her husband's ; and the glow on her cheek, and the smile of her lips and eyes when he appeared, spoke more plainly than ever, " Any where with him !
Page 394 - Naiads' cells, And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping; Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping, The while they pelt each other on the crown...
Page 48 - Behind these sallows, in a nook between them and the hill, rose the uncouth and shapeless cottage of Tom Cordery. It is a scene which hangs upon the eye and the memory, striking, grand, almost sublime, and above all eminently foreign. No English painter would choose such a subject for an English landscape ; no one in a picture would take it for English. It might pass for one of those scenes which have furnished models to Salvator Rosa. Tom's cottage was, however, very thoroughly national and characteristic...
Page 405 - Et que de me complaire on ne prend nul souci. Oui, je sors de chez vous fort mal édifiée : Dans toutes mes leçons j'y suis contrariée ; On n'y respecte rien, chacun y parle haut, Et c'est tout justement la cour du roi Pétaud.

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