Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands, Svazek 1And now, what am I to do? The Times seems to think that, in order to be consistent, I ought to take up the conflict immediately; but, for my part, I think otherwise. What an unreasonable creature! Does he suppose me so lost to all due sense of humility as to take out of his hands a cause which he is pleading so well? If the plantation slaves had such a good friend as the Times, and if every over-worked female cotton picker could write as clever letters as this dressmaker's apprentice, and get them published in as influential papers, and excite as general a sensation by them as this seems to have done, I think I should feel that there was no need of my interfering in a work so much better done. |
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America appears arrangement beautiful building called carriage castle character Christian church circle classes comfort coming consider course door Duke Earl England English entirely expressed eyes face fact fanciful feel flowers friends gave give given green grounds hall hand head heard heart hundred idea interest kind ladies land leaves letters light lines living London look Lord manner meeting mind nature never once opened party passed person picture poet poor present Quaker received religious remarkable ruins Scotch Scotland Scott seemed seen Shakspeare showed side slavery society soul speak spirit standing stone suppose Sutherland taken thing thought thousand told took town trees turned walked walls whole young
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Strana 129 - CALL it not vain: — they do not err, Who say that when the poet dies Mute Nature mourns her worshipper And celebrates his obsequies; Who say tall cliff and cavern lone For the departed bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill; That flowers in tears of balm distil; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks in deeper groan reply, 10 And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Strana 220 - And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
Strana 199 - Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.
Strana 187 - Verily I say unto you ; There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel's, but he shall receive an hundred-fold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions, and in the world to come eternal life.
Strana 27 - I THANK the goodness and the grace Which on my birth have smiled, And made me, in these Christian days, A happy English child.
Strana 180 - ... O'er Roslin, all that dreary night, A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 'Twas broader than the watchfire light, And redder than the bright moonbeam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copsewood glen : 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from cavern'd Hawthprnden. Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie, Each baron, for a sable shroud, Sheathed in his iron panoply.
Strana 44 - And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale. Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures...
Strana 199 - Philomel, with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lulla, lulla, lullaby ; lulla, lulla, lullaby ; Never harm, nor spell nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So, good night, with lullaby.
Strana 104 - Auld Lang Syne" brings Scotland, one and all, Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams, The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall, All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall, Like Banquo's offspring: — floating past me seems My childhood, in this childishness of mine: I care not — 'tis a glimpse of "Auld Lang Syne.
Strana 209 - The finch, the sparrow, and the lark, The plain-song cuckoo gray, Whose note full many a man doth mark, And dares not answer, nay...