Our village: sketches of rural character and scenery, Volume 1

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E. Bliss, 1828
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Page 143 - Alas, poor creature ! I will soon revenge This cruelty upon the author of it ; Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood, Shall never more betray a harmless peace To an untimely end :" and in that sorrow, As he was pashing* it against a tree, I suddenly stept in.
Page 138 - And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo...
Page 142 - Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice : To end the controversy, in a rapture, Upon his instrument he plays so swiftly, So many voluntaries, and so quick, That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of diff'ring method Meeting in one full centre of delight.
Page 259 - The common, overgrown with fern, and rough With prickly gorse, that, shapeless and deform'd, And dang'rous to the touch, has yet its bloom, And decks itself with ornaments of gold...
Page 161 - But they were beaten sulky, and would not move — to my great disappointment; I wanted to prolong the pleasure of success. What a glorious sensation it is to be for five hours together winning — winning — winning! always feeling what a whistplayer feels when he takes up four honours, seven trumps ! Who would think that a little bit of leather, and two pieces of wood, had such a delightful and delighting power?
Page 176 - ... defiance of wet and cold, grumble at the warmth and dryness of his apartment. He used to foretell that it would kill him, and assuredly it did so. Never could the typhus fever have found out that wild hill side, or have lurked under that broken roof.
Page v - THE following pages contain an attempt to delineate country scenery and country manners, as they exist in a small village in the south of England. The writer may at least claim the merit of a hearty love of her subject, and of that local and personal familiarity, which only a long residence in one neighbourhood could have enabled her to attain. Her descriptions have always been written on the...
Page 2 - Europe at the chariot wheels of a hero, to go to sleep at Vienna, and awaken at Madrid ; it produces a real fatigue, a weariness of spirit. On the other hand, nothing is so delightful as to sit down in a country village in one of Miss Austen's delicious novels, quite sure before we leave it to become...
Page 97 - ... child — now laughing, nodding, and shaking her little whip at us — darting about like some winged creature — till at last she stopped at the top of the ascent, and stood for a moment on the summit, her straw bonnet blown back, and held on only by the strings ; her brown hair playing on the wind in long natural ringlets ; her complexion becoming every moment more .splendid from exertion, redder and whiter ; her eyes and her smile brightening and dimpling; her figure in its simple white gown,...
Page 31 - Come, May !' and up she springs as light as a bird. The road is gay now ; carts and postchaises, and girls in red cloaks, and, afar off, looking almost like a toy, the coach. It meets us fast and soon. How much happier the walkers look than the riders — especially the frost-bitten gentleman, and the shivering lady with the invisible face, sole passengers of that commodious machine ! Hooded, veiled, and bonneted as she is, one sees from her attitude how miserable she would look uncovered.

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