The Cambrian tourist; or, Post-chaise companion through Wales ...

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G.B. Whittaker, 1828 - History - 316 pages
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Page 104 - It has been said that he who makes two blades of grass grow where only one grew before is a benefactor to his species.
Page 100 - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven. As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
Page 153 - Oh ! where does faithful Gelert roam? The flower of all his race ; So true, so brave, — a lamb at home, A lion in the chase...
Page 111 - Ah little think the gay licentious proud, Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround; They, who their thoughtless hours in giddy mirth, And wanton, often cruel, riot waste; Ah little think they, while they dance along, How many feel, this very moment, death And all the sad variety of pain.
Page 218 - If the view from the top be painful and intolerable, that from below is delightful in an equal extreme ; it is impossible for the emotions arising from the sublime to be felt beyond what they are here : so beautiful an arch, so elevated, so light, and springing as it were up to heaven ! the rapture of the spectator is really indescribable!
Page 154 - Twas only at Llewellyn's board the faithful Gelert fed ; he watched, he served, he cheered his lord, and sentinel'd his bed. In sooth, he was a peerless hound, the gift of royal John ; but now no Gelert could be found, and all the chase rode on. And now, as over rocks and dells the gallant chidings rise, all Snowdon's craggy chaos yells with many mingled cries.
Page 251 - But hail, ye mighty masters of the lay, Nature's true sons, the friends of man and truth ! Whose song, sublimely sweet, serenely gay, Amused my childhood, and inform'd my youth. O let your spirit still my bosom soothe, Inspire my dreams, and my wild wanderings guide ; Your voice each rugged path of life can smooth, For well I know, wherever ye reside, There harmony, and peace, and innocence abide.
Page 156 - Gelert's bones protect. There never could the spearman pass, Or forester, unmoved ; There oft the tear-besprinkled grass Llewelyn's sorrow proved. And there he hung his horn and spear, And there, as evening fell, In fancy's ear he oft would hear Poor Gelert's dying yell. And till great Snowdon's rocks grow old, And cease the storm to brave, The consecrated spot shall hold The name of
Page 82 - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Page 218 - Though the sides of this bridge are provided in some parts with a parapet of fixed rocks, yet few men have resolution to walk to them, and look over into the abyss. You involuntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the parapet, and peep over it. Looking down from this height about a minute, gave me a violent head-ache.

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