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Exmoor: Or, the Footsteps of St. Hubert in the West
Herbert Byng Hall
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2019
admiration agreeable already animal appeared Author beautiful better bridge bright called cause charming comfort companion crossed dark deer delight desire Devon distance early England enjoy equal excellent excitement fact fair feelings field fish forest give half hand heart hills hope horse hounds hunting interest kind lady land least length less light live look lovely master means meet merry miles mind moor Moreover morning named nature never nevertheless night noble North offer once ourselves pack passed pleasant pleasing pleasure probably rarely recollect regards rich ride river road scarcely scenes season seen selected side soon sport sportsman stag sufficient taste termed thought tion town true truly turned vale village Vols walk whole wild wood woodlands
Seite 115 - Hail to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire ; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Seite 302 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Seite 417 - I love all waste And solitary places; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be.
Seite 77 - As inward love breeds outward talk, The hound some praise, and some the hawk ; Some, better pleased with private sport, Use tennis, some a mistress court : But these delights I neither wish Nor envy, while I freely fish.
Seite 379 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man s dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Seite 418 - So, as we rode, we talked ; and the swift thought, Winging itself with laughter, lingered not, But flew from brain to brain...