The Vicar of Wakefield: A Tale, Volumes 1-2

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J. Davies; T. Smith; N. Taylor, and and [sic] W. Thompson., 1783 - 128 pages

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Page 49 - No flocks that range the valley free, To slaughter I condemn: Taught by that Power that pities me, I learn to pity them : "But from the mountain's grassy side A guiltless feast I bring; A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied, And water from the spring. "Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ; All earth-born cares are wrong; Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Page 48 - TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale, And guide my lonely way To where yon taper cheers the vale With hospitable ray. " For here forlorn and lost I tread, With fainting steps and slow; Where wilds, immeasurably spread, Seem lengthening as I go." " Forbear, my son," the Hermit cries, " To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder faithless phantom flies To lure thee to thy doom.
Page 50 - And those who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. " And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep : A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?
Page 50 - To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest: And, "Whence, unhappy youth," he cried, "The sorrows of thy breast?
Page 48 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, ' To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Page 53 - Twas Edwin's self that press'd. Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, ^ ^ Restored to love and thee. Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign ; And shall we never, never part, My life — my all that's mine? No, never from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true; The sigh that rends thy constant heart, Shall break thy Edwin's too.
Page 26 - Our little habitation was situated at the foot of a sloping hill, sheltered with a beautiful underwood behind, and a prattling river before ; on one side a meadow, on the other a green.
Page 51 - But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray ; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way.
Page 111 - Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes ; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree.
Page 26 - Besides, as it was kept with the utmost neatness, the dishes, plates, and coppers, being well scoured, and all disposed in bright rows on the shelves, the eye was agreeably relieved, and did not want richer...

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