A Week at Welwyn. [With a Map.]For private circulation, 1873 - 67 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
abbey amidst ancient antique ash trees avenue Ayot Green Ayot St Lawrence Baron battle of Fontenoy beauty Botanic Garden Brocket Hall Brocket Park burial of Narcissa buried Burleigh century CHAPTER churchyard daughter death dence died Digswell Hill Dr Young Duke Humphrey dwelling Earl Cowper Earl of Salisbury edifice England English erected eyes Frythe grave GUESSONS Hatfield Henry Hertford Hertfordshire Herts highways horses Hôtel de Dieu husband inscription James Joseph Sabine Knebworth Lady Anne Grimston Lady Cathcart legend London Lord High Treasurer Lyons Lytton married Mercier miles Mimram monument neighbourhood Night Thoughts nightingale North Road Panshanger parish church passing peerage picture Queen Elizabeth Queen Hoo Hall railway Sabine shew Sir Edward spacious spot St Albans St Michael's STORY OF LADY STORY OF NARCISSA structure style Tewin Water tomb town Verulam village visitors Watling Street WEEK AT WELWYN widow William Cecil
Pasajes populares
Página 63 - Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily, mingle they,
Página 26 - He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, Lord, what music hast thou provided for the Saints in Heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on Earth...
Página 35 - Pray'r-Book now shall be my looking-glass, In which I will adore sweet Virtue's face. Here dwell no hateful looks, no Palace cares, No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-fac'd fears : Then here I'll sit, and sigh my hot love's folly, And learn t...
Página 12 - O'er dust ! a charity their dogs enjoy. What could I do? what succour? what resource? With pious sacrilege, a grave I stole ; With impious piety, that grave I wrong'd ; Short in my duty ; coward in my grief! More like her murderer, than friend, I crept, With soft-suspended step, and, muffled deep In midnight darkness, whisper'd my last sigh. I whisper'd what should echo through their realms ; Nor writ her name, whose tomb should pierce the skies.
Página 11 - Denied the charity of dust, to spread O'er dust ! a charity their dogs enjoy. What could I do? what succour? what resource? With pious sacrilege, a grave I stole ; With impious piety, that grave I wrong'd ; Short in my duty ; coward in my grief!
Página 19 - Like him I go, for angels drove us both : Hard was his fate, but mine still more unkind ; His Eve went with him, but mine stays behind.
Página 10 - Young, author of The Complaint, or Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality.
Página 26 - But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think that miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted...
Página 26 - I have very 148 often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, " Lord, what music hast Thou provided for the Saints in Heaven, when Thou affordest bad men such music on earth ?
Página 38 - Ease and pleasure quake to hear of death ; but my life, full of cares and miseries, desireth to be dissolved.