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Abbotsford amid ancient ANNE BOLEYN arch arms beautiful beneath blessed breast breath bright brow castle Cathedral chapel Chatsworth cheer child Church clasping clime cloud crown dark dead death deep delight Denmark Hill didst dome doth earth England fair feet flowers France gaze grace grave Haddon Hall halls hand hast hath heart height Holyrood John Gower Johnny Bower Kenilworth king land Lichfield Cathedral lone marble Mary of Scotland Methinks monument mother mournful muse native ne'er neath noble o'er palace pale perchance pleasant poor prayer pride princely Queen repose rich robes rock rude scarcely scene seemed shades Sir Walter Scott skies sleep smile soul spirit spot stone stranger Stratford upon Avon strong sweet taste tears thee thine thou thought throng toil tomb tower trees turrets vale voice walk walls weary wild words wrought young
Page 87 - For the Lord will not cast off for ever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.
Page 117 - He repeated this so earnestly that we could not refuse; his daughters went into his study, opened his writing-desk, and laid paper and pens in the usual order, and I then moved him through the hall and into the spot where he had always been accustomed to work. When the chair was placed at the desk, and he found himself in the old position, he smiled and thanked us, and said, "Now give me my pen, and leave me for a little to myself.
Page 87 - How hath the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud in his anger, and cast down from heaven unto the earth the beauty of Israel, and remembered not his footstool in the day of his anger!
Page 286 - She heard, through all, her beating heart, And turned and wept ! She wept, to wear a crown. God save thee, weeping Queen ! Thou shalt be well beloved, The tyrant's sceptre cannot move As those pure tears have moved ; The nature in thine...
Page 203 - Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.
Page 87 - Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, How shall ye flee away and be at rest ? The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Mankind their country — Israel but the grave !
Page 176 - Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear To dig the dust enclosed here. Blessed be the man that spares these stones And cursed be he that moves my bones.
Page 280 - ... To have repeatedly met and listened to Miss Edgeworth, seated familiarly with her by the fireside, may seem to her admirers in America a sufficient payment for the hazards of crossing the Atlantic. Her conversation, like her writings, is varied, vivacious, and delightful. Her...
Page 41 - How shall I tell you," she wrote from this delicious retirement, " of all the loveliness by which I am surrounded — of all the soothing and holy influence it seems shedding down into my inmost heart. I have sometimes feared, within the last two years, that the effect of suffering and adulation, and feelings too highly wrought and too severely tried, would have been to dry up within me the fountains of such pure and simple enjoyment ; but now I know that 'Nature never did betray The heart that loved...
Page 42 - ... have completely run wild ; and I look down from it upon lovely Winandermere, which seems at this moment even like another sky, so truly is every summer cloud and tint of azure pictured in its transparent mirror. " I am so delighted with the spot, that I scarcely know how I shall leave it. The situation is one of the deepest retirement ; but the bright lake before me, with all its fairy barks and sails, glancing like 'things of life' over its blue water, prevents the solitude from being overshadowed...