About Yorkshire, by T. and K. Macquoid


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Seite 153 - A vault where the bodies are buried upright! There, face by face, and hand by hand, The Claphams and Mauleverers stand; And, in his place, among son and sire, Is John de Clapham, that fierce Esquire, A valiant man, and a name of dread In the ruthless wars of the White and Red; Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury church And smote off his head on the stones of the porch!
Seite 149 - A name which it took of yore ; A thousand years hath it borne that name, And shall a thousand more. And hither is young Romilly come; And what may now forbid That he, perhaps for the hundredth time, Shall bound across the Strid...
Seite 150 - In Bolton, on the field of Wharf, A stately Priory ! " The stately Priory was reared ; And Wharf, as he moved along, To matins joined a mournful voice, Nor failed at even-song. And the Lady prayed in heaviness That looked not for relief ! But slowly did her succour come, And a patience to her grief. Oh ! there is never sorrow of heart That shall lack a timely end, If but to God we turn, and ask Of Him to be our friend ! XXII.
Seite 296 - Hills) can produce — with a clean cloth on my table — and a bottle of wine on my right hand to drink your health. I have a hundred hens and chickens about my yard — and not a parishioner catches a hare, or a rabbit or a trout, but he brings it as an offering to me.
Seite 243 - A great number of them which purchased those superstitious mansions, reserved of those library books, some to serve their jakes, some to scour their candlesticks, and some to rub their boots. Some they sold to the grocers and soap sellers, and some they sent over sea to the bookbinders, not in small number, but at times whole ships full, to the wondering of the foreign nations.
Seite 332 - The rover came back from a far distant land, And he claimed of the maiden her long-promised hand '. But he built, ere he won her, the bridge of his vow, And the lovers of Egton pass over it now ! FETE DU ROI DBS FRANCAIS.— 1 MAI.
Seite 65 - Allen-a-Dale was ne'er belted a knight, Though his spur be as sharp and his blade be as bright; Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord, Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word; And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail, Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-Dale!
Seite 62 - Junr., and Martha Railton, both of Bowes, Buried in one grave : He Died in a fever, and upon tolling his passing bell, she cry'd out, My heart is broke, and in a Few hours Expired, purely through Love.
Seite 161 - as a plain man, who lived for the most part a country life, and came seldom either to court or to London, excepting when called to Parliament, on which occasion he behaved himself like a wise and good English nobleman.
Seite 236 - At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone : At noon the wild bee hummeth About the moss'd headstone : At midnight the moon cometh, And looketh down alone. Her song the lintwhite swelleth, The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth, The callow throstle lispeth, The slumbrous wave outwelleth, The babbling runnel crispeth, The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low-lieth.

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