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Page vi - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Page 240 - ... than for me ? Curate. When did you make the proposal ? Brother. Towards the latter end of February. Curate. But what if I could prove to you that she was engaged to Mr. Roberts the foregoing year ? Brother. I wish I could see that proved ! Curate. You shall soon see it. Saying so the Curate hastily left the room, and returned in a few minutes with a letter which his sister-in-law had written to him the November of the preceding year, in which she mentioned to him that she was engaged to Mr. Roberts,...
Page 276 - What water forward? what water abaft ? what water to starboard? what water to port?
Page 31 - ... the fastening. Bruin seemed, however, in no humour to make the experiment. Sore and worn out, he crawled into a corner and was soon fast asleep, resuming in his dreams some of his old avocations. He woke at daylight, and immediately rose to examine his prison. The door he sniffed at, but passed by; the window was at so great a height from the floor that he could not reach it upon tiptoe, but he remarked that a very delicious puff of fresh air came down an aperture originally used as a chimney....