Sketches of Society in Great Britain and Ireland, Volume 2

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Carey, Lea & Blanchard, 1834 - Great Britain

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Page 77 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Page 247 - No more its arches echo to the noise Of joy and festive mirth. No more the glance Of blazing taper through its windows beams, And quivers on the undulating wave: But naked stand the melancholy walls, Lash'd by the wintry tempests, cold and bleak, That whistle mournful through the empty halls, And piecemeal crumble down the towers to dust.
Page 77 - When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go— but go alone the while — Then view St. David's ruined pile ; And, home' returning, soothly swear, Was never scene so sad and fair ! II.
Page 19 - She was a woman of masculine understanding and conduct — proud, furious, selfish, and unfeeling. She was a builder, a buyer and seller of estates, a money-lender, a farmer, a merchant of lead, coals, and timber.
Page 144 - On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love, I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod the Arcadian plain. Pure stream ! in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave...
Page 29 - Lady Sunderland, and her relations. Dear sir, let your dying chaplain recommend this truth to you and your family, that no happiness or solid comfort can be found in this vale of tears, like living a pious life ; and pray ever remember this rule — never do anything upon which you dare not first ask the blessing of God.
Page 75 - Under the greenwood tree. Next day did many widows come, Their husbands to bewail ; They washed their wounds in brinish tears, But all would not prevail. Their bodies, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away ; They...
Page 266 - I long to lay this painful head And aching heart beneath the soil, To slumber in that dreamless bed From all my toil. For misery stole me at my birth, And cast me helpless on the wild ! I perish ; — O my mother earth, Take home thy child.
Page 29 - This is the saddest news that ever my pen could write. The destroying Angel having taken up his quarters within my habitation, my dearest wife is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested with a crown of righteousness, having made a happy end. Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, she had fled from the pit of destruction with the sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days ; but she was resolved to die a martyr to my interest. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with her joys, which...
Page 51 - ... before been known in England; and would be still thought very prodigious, if the same noble person had not, within a year or two afterwards, made the king and queen a more stupendous entertainment; which, (God be thanked,) though possibly it might too much whet the appetite of others to excess, no man ever after in those days 8 imitated.

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