Through Airedale from Goole to Malham

Framsida
Walker & Laycock, 1891 - 302 sidor
 

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Sida 225 - Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; Another race the following spring supplies; They fall successive, and successive rise: So generations in their course decay; So flourish these, when those are pass'd away.
Sida 258 - Thy spirit, Independence ! let me share, Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye ! Thy steps I follow 'with my bosom bare, Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Sida 183 - Which of her readers has not become her friend ? Who that has known her books has not admired the artist's noble English, the burning love of truth, the bravery, the simplicity, the indignation at wrong, the eager sympathy, the pious love and reverence, the passionate honour, so to speak, of the woman?
Sida 289 - Beneath our feet, a little lowly vale, A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high Among the mountains; even as if the spot Had been, from eldest time by wish of theirs So placed, to be shut out from all the world ! Urn-like it was in shape, deep as an urn; With rocks encompassed, save that to the south Was one small opening, where a heath-clad ridge Supplied a boundary less abrupt and close; A quiet treeless nook, with two green fields, A liquid pool that...
Sida li - One for sorrow, Two for mirth, Three for a wedding, Four for a birth...
Sida xlviii - Monday for wealth ; Tuesday for health ; Wednesday the best day of all ; Thursday for crosses ; Friday for losses ; Saturday no luck at all.
Sida 100 - Money, money, money ; and thou must supply me. Wife. Alas , I am the least cause of your discontent; Yet what is mine , either in rings or jewels , Use to your own desire; but I beseech you, As...
Sida 284 - In shadier bower More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned, Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor Nymph Nor Faunus haunted.
Sida 180 - I've seen enough of thee And now am careless what thou say'st of me Thy smiles I court not nor thy frowns I fear My cares are past my head lies quiet here What faults you saw in me take care to shun And look at home enough there's to be done...
Sida 100 - Torke bee stood mute, and was judged to be prest to death, according to which judgment he was executed at the castell of Yorke the 5th of August.

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