Somerset notes and queries, also Journal of the Taunton school of art, ed. by W.A. Woodley

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W A Woodley

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Page 73 - Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield, Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field, And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn, Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary dawn ; And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of men...
Page 50 - Cold are those hands, which, living, were stretched forth At friendship's call to succour modest worth. Here lies James Quin ! deign reader to be taught (Whate'er thy strength of body, force of thought, In nature's happiest mould however cast), To this complexion thou must come at last.
Page 59 - When through the tyrant's welcome means I shall resign my life, The God i serve will soon provide For both my sons and wife.
Page 58 - Then with a jug of nappy ale His knights did on him wait ; « Go tell the traitor, that to-day He leaves this mortal state.
Page 60 - How did I know that every dart That cut the airy way, Might not find passage to my heart, And close mine eyes for aye? "And shall I now, for fear of death, Look wan and be dismayed? No! from my heart fly childish fear, Be all the man displayed.
Page 50 - If social virtues make remembrance dear, Or manners pure on decent rule depend; To His remains consign one grateful tear, Of youth the Guardian, and of all the Friend. Now sleeps Dominion; here no Beauty flows. Nor more avails the festive scene to grace. Beneath that hand which no discernment shows, Untaught to honour, or distinguish place.
Page 59 - And to Sir Charles did go. But when he came, his children twain, And eke his loving wife, With briny tears did wet the floor, For good Sir Charles's life. «Oh good Sir Charles!» said Canterlone, « Bad tidings I do bring. » « Speak boldly, man,» said brave Sir Charles; «What says the traitor king?
Page 12 - Between two worlds Life hovers like a star, Twixt Night and Morn, upon the horizon's verge. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be! The eternal surge Of Time and Tide rolls on and bears afar Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, Lashed from the foam of ages ; while the graves Of Empires heave but like some passing waves.
Page 97 - Taunton bore him, London bred him, Piety trained him, virtue led him ; Earth enriched him, heaven caressed him, Taunton blest him, London blest him; This thankful town, that mindful city .Share his piety and his pity ; What he gave, and how he gave it, Ask the poor, and you shall have it. Gentle reader, Heaven may strike Thy tender heart to do the like ; And now thy eyes have read this story, Give him the praise and heav'n the glory.
Page 85 - She had scarcely uttered these words, when a venerable old man, with a long beard, made his appearance, and having listened to their request, proffered his services, which were right gladly accepted. The old gentleman (who was no other than the Arch-fiend himself) having taken the seat vacated by the godly piper, commenced playing a slow and solemn air, which, on the guests remonstrating, he changed into one more lively and rapid. The company now began to dance, but soon found themselves impelled...

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