Sketches of Lancashire Life and LocalitiesWhittaker & Company, 1855 - 260 páginas |
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Página 27
... walked down the road , in this sombre starlight , with a hushed wind , and under the shade of the woody height on which the homestead of this brave old Saxon stood , my footsteps sounding clear in the quiet air , and the very trees ...
... walked down the road , in this sombre starlight , with a hushed wind , and under the shade of the woody height on which the homestead of this brave old Saxon stood , my footsteps sounding clear in the quiet air , and the very trees ...
Página 44
... walked on , thankful for things as they are . A little further on , Fir Grove bridge crosses the Rochdale canal , and commands a better view of the surrounding country . I rested here a little while , and looked round upon the spot so ...
... walked on , thankful for things as they are . A little further on , Fir Grove bridge crosses the Rochdale canal , and commands a better view of the surrounding country . I rested here a little while , and looked round upon the spot so ...
Página 48
... walked away , and shouted out , " Neaw ta care yo coan th ' next time yo com'n thiz gate , an wi'n have a gradely do . " About twenty yards from the west end of the little stone bridge that spans the river , a lane leads between the ...
... walked away , and shouted out , " Neaw ta care yo coan th ' next time yo com'n thiz gate , an wi'n have a gradely do . " About twenty yards from the west end of the little stone bridge that spans the river , a lane leads between the ...
Página 67
... the station . Turning to the left at the top , we struck into a quiet road , that leads between hedge- rows , in the direction of Rostherne . Bowdon bells were ringing to church as we walked along , surrounded by ROSTHERNE MERE ·
... the station . Turning to the left at the top , we struck into a quiet road , that leads between hedge- rows , in the direction of Rostherne . Bowdon bells were ringing to church as we walked along , surrounded by ROSTHERNE MERE ·
Página 68
... walked on , it was creeping . For some distance , the roadside was pleasantly soft to the foot with springy verdure , and thick - leaved trees overhung the highway , " That faire did spred Their armes abroad , with gray mosse overcaste ...
... walked on , it was creeping . For some distance , the roadside was pleasantly soft to the foot with springy verdure , and thick - leaved trees overhung the highway , " That faire did spred Their armes abroad , with gray mosse overcaste ...
Termos e frases comuns
abeawt ancient appearance aw know aw'll aw'm aw've Bamford bank beauty Belfield Blackley Blackstone Edge Boggart Buckley Buckley Hall Bury Butterworth Byron called Castleton church Clegg Hall Clough cottage Crumpsall dar say deawn dhyel district eawt factory green Grislehurst hamlet heaw heawse Henry VIII Heywood Hall hills Holt Hooley Bridge Humphrey Chetham i'th inhabitants Jone land Littleborough living lonely look Lord Byron Manchester manor manufacturing Mary meadows Middleton miles mills Milnrow moor moorland native naut neaw neighbourhood neighbouring never Newall noan nook o'er o'th Owd Neddy parish picturesque pleasant quaint quiet river Roch road Roch Rochdale Rostherne Saddleworth Samuel Bamford scene side Sir John Smallbridge South Lancashire spot stands stone stood theer there's things thoose Todmorden trees vale valley village walked wandered weel Whau wheer wild wind woods yo'n
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 75 - Art is long and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Página 73 - How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power. And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th
Página 208 - I see the spectacle of morning from the hilltop over against my house, from daybreak to sunrise, with emotions which an angel might share. The long slender bars of cloud float like fishes in the sea of crimson light. From the earth, as a shore, I look out into that silent sea. I seem to partake its rapid transformations; the active enchantment reaches my dust, and I dilate and conspire with the morning wind. How does Nature deify us with a few and cheap elements! Give me health and a day, and I will...
Página 74 - Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Página 74 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Página 1 - It's hardly in a body's pow'r, To keep, at times, frae being sour, To see how things are shar'd ; How best o...
Página 233 - Under the Greenwood Tree Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Página 74 - Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death ? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid...
Página 75 - Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered muse, The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Página 41 - My sledge and hammer lie reclined, My bellows, too, have lost their wind; . My fire's extinct, my forge decayed, And in the dust my vice is laid. My coal is spent, my iron's gone, My nails are drove, my work is done ; My fire-dried corpse lies here at rest, And, smoke-like, soars up to be bless'd.