Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey

Belford, Clarke, 1886 - 368 Seiten

Washington Irving (best known for The Legend of Sleepy Hollow) was one of the first American writers to gain notoriety throughout Europe. In this story, Irving describes his experiences visiting Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey in the United Kingdom. He even talks with Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott.Ê


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Seite 89 - To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously— his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.
Seite 53 - Knowledge before — a discovery that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy.
Seite 97 - Our union would have healed feuds in which blood had been shed by our fathers, it would have joined lands broad and rich, it would have joined at least one heart, and two persons not ill matched in years (she is two years my elder), and — and — and — what has been the result?
Seite 97 - He rose, and with a cold and gentle grasp He took her hand; a moment o'er his face A tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced, and then it faded, as it came...
Seite 85 - t were the cape of a long ridge of such, Save that there was no sea to lave its base, But a most living landscape...
Seite 118 - Treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Seite 220 - Old Scratch must have had a tough time of it ! " Tom consoled himself for the loss of his property with the loss of his wife, for he was a man of fortitude. He even felt something like gratitude towards the black woodsman, who, he considered, had done him a kindness.
Seite 97 - Was traced, — and then it faded as it came, And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke The fitting vows, but heard not his own words, And all things...
Seite 92 - Well ! thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too ; For still my heart regards thy weal Warmly, as it was wont to do.
Seite 58 - THROUGH thy battlements, Newstead, the hollow winds whistle; Thou, the hall of my fathers, art gone to decay ; In thy once smiling garden, the hemlock and thistle Have choked up the rose which late bloom'd in the way.

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