Annals of Winchcombe and Sudeley

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J. Murray, 1877 - Sudeley Castle - 341 pages
 

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Page 277 - Did clap their bloody hands. He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try; Nor call'd the Gods, with vulgar spite, To vindicate his helpless right ; But bow'd his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Page 222 - And crushed and torn beneath his claws the princely hunters lay. Ho! strike the flagstaff deep, Sir Knight: ho! scatter flowers, fair maids: Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute: ho! gallants, draw your blades: Thou sun, shine on her joyously; ye breezes, waft her wide; Our glorious SEMPER EADEM, the banner of our pride.
Page 310 - The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed, To pleasure his dainty whim : And the mouldering dust that years have made, Is a merry meal for him. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green. Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, And a staunch old heart has he.
Page 206 - Be of good comfort, master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.
Page 195 - Guid faith he mauna fa' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that ; That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a
Page 21 - While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand ; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall ; And when Rome falls — the World.
Page 108 - Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun's eye, And in themselves their pride lies buried, For at a frown they in their glory die. The painful warrior famoused for fight, After a thousand victories once foil'd, Is from the book of honour razed quite, And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd : Then happy I, that love and am beloved Where I may not remove nor be removed.
Page 5 - And if thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone: for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.
Page 53 - Egeria ! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast ; whate'er thou art Or wert, — a young Aurora of the air, The nympholepsy of some fond despair : Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth, Who found a more than common votary there Too much adoring; whatsoe'er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.
Page 253 - And he has bound a snow-white plume Upon his gallant crest. He looked upon his people, And a tear was in his eye ; He looked upon the traitors, And his glance was stern and high. Right graciously he smiled on us, As rolled from wing to wing, Down all our line, a deafening shout,

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