Our English Villages: Their Story and Their Antiquities

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Methuen, 1889 - Country life - 147 pages
 

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Page 137 - It may please your grace to understand that witches and sorcerers within these few last years are marvellously increased within your grace's realm. Your grace's subjects pine away, even unto the death ; their colour fadeth, their flesh rotteth, their speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft. I pray God they never practise further than upon the subject.
Page 115 - Scrubb'd till it shone, the day to grace, Bore then upon its massive board No mark to part the squire and lord. Then was brought in the lusty brawn, By old blue-coated serving-man ; Then the grim boar's head frown'd on high, Crested with bays and rosemary. Well can the green-garb'd ranger tell How, when, and where, the monster fell ; What dogs before his death he tore, And all the baiting of the boar.
Page 115 - All hailed, with uncontrolled delight, And general voice, the happy night That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down. The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Went roaring up the chimney wide: The huge hall-table's oaken face...
Page 139 - ... its stately monuments of warriors and worthies of the olden time, ancestors of the present lords of the soil; its tombstones, recording successive generations of sturdy yeomanry, whose progeny still plough the same fields, and kneel at the same altar. The parsonage...
Page 106 - Epiphany, the farmer, attended by his workmen, with a large pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard, and there encircling one of the best bearing trees, they drink the following toast three several times : — ' Here's to thee, old apple-tree, Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow! And whence thou mayst bear apples enow ! Hats full! caps full I Bushel — bushel — sacks full, And my pockets full too ! Huzza...
Page 115 - Ceremony doffed his pride. The heir, with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, underogating, share The vulgar game of
Page 115 - And carols roared with blithesome din ; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery...
Page 96 - OUR bugles sang truce ; for the nightcloud had lowered, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky ; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered — The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.
Page 114 - And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night ; On Christmas Eve the bells were rung ; On Christmas Eve the mass was sung: That only night in all the year, Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
Page 116 - Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.

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