Publications of the Surtees Society, Volume 24

Voorkant
Surtees Society, 1852
 

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Pagina 99 - Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; Nor for the arrow that flieth by day; Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.
Pagina 245 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Pagina 196 - Durham, and in accordance with his pursuits and plans ; having for its object the publication of inedited Manuscripts, illustrative of the intellectual, the moral, the religious, and the social condition of those parts of England and Scotland included on the east between the Humber and the Frith of Forth, and on the west between the Mersey and the Clyde, a region which constituted the ancient Kingdom of Northumbria.
Pagina v - Of Gilbert Walmsley, thus presented to my mind, let me indulge myself in the remembrance. I knew him very early ; he was one of the first friends that literature procured me, and I hope, that at least, my gratitude made me worthy of his notice. " He was of an advanced age, and I was only not a boy, yet he never received my notions with contempt. He was a whig, with all the virulence and malevolence of his party ; yet difference of opinion did not keep us apart. I honoured him and he endured me.
Pagina 254 - FAREWELL to pleasant Dilston Hall, My father's ancient seat ; A stranger now must call thee his, Which gars my heart to greet. Farewell each kindly well-known face My heart has held so dear ; My tenants now must leave their lands, Or hold their lives in fear.
Pagina 86 - When the aspin gray forgot to play, And the mist clung to the hill.] They dug his grave but a bare foot deep, By the edge of the Ninestone Burn, And they covered him [o'er with the heather-flower,] The moss and the [Lady] fern.
Pagina 254 - In my father's grave to lie. There chant my solemn requiem In Hexham's holy towers; And let six maids of fair Tynedale Scatter my grave with flowers.
Pagina vi - His studies had been so various, that I am not able to name a man of equal knowledge. His acquaintance with books was great ; and what he did not immediately know, he could at least tell where to find. Such was his amplitude of learning, and such his copiousness of communication, that it may be doubted whether a day now passes in which I have not some advantage from his friendship.
Pagina 292 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Pagina 234 - Hughe, what maketh thee here ? ' and he spake never word, but lifte up his cloke, and then he shewed Sir Anton his ribbes set with bones, and nothing more ; and none other of the varlets saw him, but the busshop only ; and...

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