Belford Regis: Or, Sketches of a Country Town, Volume 1

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Carey, Lea and Blanchard, 1835 - English fiction - 209 pages
 

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Page 201 - L'on est chez vous contrainte de se taire, Car madame, à jaser, tient le dé tout le jour. Mais enfin je prétends discourir à mon tour : Je vous dis que mon fils n'a rien fait de plus sage Qu'en recueillant chez soi ce dévot personnage ; Que le ciel au besoin l'a céans envoyé Pour redresser à tous votre esprit fourvoyé ; Que , pour votre salut , vous le devez entendre , Et qu'il ne reprend rien qui ne soit à reprendre. Ces visites , ces bals , ces conversations , Sont du malin esprit toutes...
Page 180 - To keep off mildews, and all weather harms : Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds, That come a-swooning over hollow grounds, And wither drearily on barren moors : Dread opener of the mysterious doors Leading to universal knowledge — see, Great son of Dryope, The many that are come to pay their vows With leaves about their brows...
Page 180 - Or upward ragged precipices flit To save poor lambkins from the eagle's maw ; Or by mysterious enticement draw Bewildered shepherds to their path again ; Or to tread breathless round the frothy main, And gather up all fancifullest shells For thee to tumble into Naiads...
Page 179 - Who lov'st to see the hamadryads dress Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken ; And through whole solemn hours dost sit, and hearken The dreary melody of bedded reeds — In desolate places, where dank moisture breeds...
Page 180 - Their fairest blossom'd beans and poppied corn; The chuckling linnet its five young unborn, To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries Their summer coolness; pent up butterflies Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year All its completions — be quickly near, By every wind that nods the mountain pine, O forester divine!
Page 178 - Of idleness in groves Elysian ; But there were some who feelingly could scan A lurking trouble in his nether lip, And see that oftentimes the reins would slip Through his forgotten hands : then would they sigh, And think of yellow leaves, of owlets
Page 72 - I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history : And, questionless, here in this open court, Which now lies naked to the injuries Of stormy weather, some men lie...
Page 181 - Be still the unimaginable lodge For solitary thinkings; such as dodge Conception to the very bourne of heaven, Then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven, That spreading in this dull and clodded earth Gives it a touch ethereal- a new birth: Be still a symbol of immensity; A firmament reflected in a sea...
Page 179 - The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth; Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx — do thou now, By thy love's milky brow ! By all the trembling mazes that she ran, Hear us, great Pan...
Page 200 - C'est que je ne puis voir tout ce ménage-ci, / 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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