Mary, a daughter of the English peasantry, by the author of 'Highland sports and pastimes'.

Voorkant
Thomas Cautley Newby, publisher, 1853

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Pagina 237 - And his last faltering accents whispered praise. At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place; Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remained to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With steady zeal each honest rustic ran; E'en children followed with endearing wile, And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile.
Pagina 138 - A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintained its man ; For him light labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more : His best companions, innocence and health, And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
Pagina 8 - Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand Between a splendid and a happy land.
Pagina 119 - Yes ! let the rich deride, the proud disdain, These simple blessings of the lowly train, To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art...
Pagina 288 - Tis to work and have such pay As just keeps life from day to day In your limbs, as in a cell For the tyrants
Pagina 60 - Oh, knew he but his happiness, of men The happiest he! who far from public rage, Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir'd, Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life.
Pagina 114 - For e'en though vanquished, he could argue still; While words of learned length and thundering sound Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around, And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, That one small head could carry all he knew. But past is all his fame. The very spot Where many a time he triumphed, is forgot.
Pagina 114 - Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault; The village all declared how much he knew: 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge...
Pagina 91 - In harvest-time, harvest-folk, servants and all, should make, all together, good cheer in the hall; And fill out the black bowl of blythe to their song, and let them be merry all harvest-time long.
Pagina 104 - Saleweth in hire song the morwe gray ; And firy Phebus riseth up so bright, That all the orient laugheth of the sight, And with his stremes drieth in the greves The silver dropes, hanging on the leves...

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