Zigzag Journeys in Europe: Vacation Rambles in Historic Lands

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Estes and Lauriat, 1880 - England - 311 pages
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Page 73 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O
Page 216 - 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.
Page 72 - Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest-? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? That sacred hour can I forget, Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love...
Page 216 - Lombard and Venetian merchants with deep-laden argosies ; Ministers from twenty nations ; more than royal pomp and ease.
Page 118 - I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide: All was still, save, by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied.
Page 73 - I aft hae kissed sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly ; And mouldering now in silent dust That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core Shall live my Highland Mary.
Page 73 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Page 98 - Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye, Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye, The Black Douglas shall not get ye.
Page 40 - THE bark that held a prince went down, The sweeping waves rolled on ; And what was England's glorious crown To him that wept a son ? He lived — for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn? He never smiled again...
Page 41 - He lived — for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn ? He never smiled again ! There stood proud forms around his throne, The stately and the brave, But which could fill the place of one...

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