Cornelius's guide. Dawlish [signed R.S.S.].

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1869
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Page 94 - Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys, Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! Whose habitations in the tree-tops even Are half-way houses on the road to heaven!
Page 98 - Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man. What passion cannot Music raise and quell? When Jubal struck the chorded shell, His listening brethren stood around, And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell, That spoke so sweetly, and so well.
Page 102 - Of fish that with their fins, and shining scales Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft Bank the mid sea : part single, or with mate, Graze the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves Of coral stray ; or, sporting with quick glance, Show to the sun their wav'd coats dropt with gold...
Page 60 - Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay : Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath has made ;w But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed, can never be supplied.
Page 74 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed, — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark heaving; — boundless, endless, and sublime. The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 74 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 99 - Thro' his dim water-world? IV Slight, to be crush'd with a tap Of my finger-nail on the sand, Small, but a work divine, Frail, but of force to withstand. Year upon year, the shock Of cataract seas that snap The three-decker's oaken spine Athwart the ledges of rock, Here on the Breton strand!
Page 62 - I'd suggest As one of the best For a man breaking down who needs absolute rest, Especially too, if he's weak in the chest. Torquay may be gayer, But as for the air, It really can not for a moment compare With snug little Dawlish — at least, so they say here.
Page 80 - ... and sleep there, no matter how long. If not knowing how to swim, you would escape drowning when you find yourself in deep water, you have only to consider yourself an empty pitcher; let your mouth and nose, not the top part of your heavy head, be the FLL] \\ciu Dicuoitari) of tljc lit lies "Celt res.
Page ii - Lovely Devonia ! land of flowers and songs ! To thee the duteous lay. Thou hast a cloud For ever in thy sky — a breeze, a shower, For ever on thy meads ; — yet where shall man, Pursuing Spring around the globe, refresh His eye with scenes more beauteous than adorn Thy fields of matchless verdure?

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