The Every-day Book and Table Book; Or, Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs, and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in Past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Months, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac ... for Daily Use and Diversion, Band 3
T. Tegg, 1841
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Seite 251 - When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Seite 231 - An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet. Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? " Art thou a man — a patriot ? look around, O thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
Seite 65 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Seite 795 - In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.
Seite 449 - 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...
Seite 201 - I'm no like to dee ; For O, I am but young to cry out, Woe is me ! I gang like a ghaist, and I carena much to spin ; I darena think o' Jamie, for that wad be a sin.
Seite 809 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk...
Seite 137 - Old man ! there is no power in holy men, Nor charm in prayer — nor purifying form Of penitence — nor outward look — nor fast — Nor agony — nor, greater than all these, The innate tortures of that deep despair, Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself Would make a hell of heaven— can exorcise From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Upon itself; there is no future pang Can deal that justice on...
Seite 163 - The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself; * Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, Leave not a wreck behind.