Round the Grange Farm, Or, Good Old Times

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Page 50 - tis the draught of a breath — From the blossom of health to the paleness of death, From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud: — Oh ! why should the spirit of mortal be proud ? WILLIAM KNOX.
Page 69 - His hair is crisp and black and long his face is like the tan, His brow is wet with honest sweat, he earns whate'er he can. And looks the whole world in the face, for he owes not any man.
Page 257 - And carols roared with blithesome din ; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery...
Page 216 - LOVE the Lord, because my voice *- And prayers he did hear ; I, while I live, will call on him, Who bowed to me his ear.
Page 162 - Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather...
Page 162 - Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back Between the night and morrow; They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since Deep within the lake, On a bed of flag-leaves, Watching till she wake.
Page 163 - IF ye will with Mab find grace, Set each platter in his place : Rake the fier up, and get Water in, ere sun be set. Wash your pailes, and dense your dairies ; Sluts are loathsome to the fairies ; Sweep your house ; who doth not so, Mab will pinch her by the toe.
Page 48 - Then his father and his mother said unto him, Is there never a woman among the daughters of thy brethren, or among all my people, that thou goest to take a wife of the uncircumcised Philistines ? And Samson said unto his father, Get her for me; for she pleaseth me well.
Page 251 - Old customs ! Oh ! I love the sound, However simple they may be ; Whate'er with time hath sanction found, Is welcome, and is dear to me...
Page 16 - Muse, bid the morn awake, Sad winter now declines, Each bird doth choose a mate, This day's St Valentine's ; For that good bishop's sake, Get up, and let us see, "What beauty it shall be That fortune us assigns.

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