The Bodley Books: Mr. Bodley abroad and The Bodley grandchildren and their journey in Holland

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1882

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Página 52 - Appear like mice; and yon' tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight: The murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high: — I'll look no more; Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong.
Página 147 - ... the Lord had more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy Word.
Página 111 - THE BELFRY OF BRUGES. IN the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown ; Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er the town. As the summer morn was breaking, on that lofty tower I stood, And the world threw off the darkness, like the weeds of widowhood. Thick with towns and hamlets studded, and with streams and vapours gray, Like a shield embossed with silver, round and vast the landscape lay.
Página 84 - Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool like a snow-drift Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous spindle, While with her foot on the treadle she guided the wheel in its motion. Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth, Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music together, Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall of a churchyard, Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses.
Página 52 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Página 36 - Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more ; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willow'd shore ; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still, As if thy waves, since Time was born. Since first they roll'd upon the Tweed, Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Nor started at the bugle-horn.
Página 181 - So they left that goodly and pleasant city, which had been their resting-place near twelve years ; but they knew they were PILGRIMS, and looked not much on those things, but lifted up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest country, and quieted their spirits.
Página 79 - I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man - be virtuous - be religious - be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.
Página 70 - As we sallied forth, every dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was the old stag-hound Maida...
Página 182 - But the tide (which stays for no man) calling them away, that were thus loth to depart, their Reverend Pastor falling down on his knees, and they all with him, with watery cheeks commended them with most fervent prayers...

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