Chronicle of the Coach: Charing Cross to IlfracombeC. Scribner's sons, 1886 - Всего страниц: 298 |
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Chronicle of the Coach: Charing Cross to Ilfracombe John Denison Champlin Ограниченный просмотр - 1886 |
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Abbey Alresford American ancient antiquity Aurelius Ambrosius Axminster beautiful Bideford Bishop Bleistift bridge brought building built called Canute carpets castle cathedral century chapel Chronicler church Clovelly coaching party cottages Cross Dartmoor Digby dinner drive drove Druids Earl effigy England English Exeter eyes famous Farnham feet ground guide-books Guildford hand hedges Henry Henry de Blois hill hill-side Honiton House hundred Ilfracombe Inigo Jones King ladies land Lion London looked Lord luncheon Mæcenas meadows miles monument nave Norman Okehampton Old Sarum once Osman Osman Digna passed Perpendicular Phaeton pretty Queen rain Raleigh Richard Richard Cromwell road Roman Romsey roof Salisbury Saxon seat Seer Sherborne Sherborne Castle side slope soon stone Stonehenge story stream streets structure summit surrounded tion tomb took tower town valley verger village walk walls White Hart William William the Conqueror Wilton Winchester Wykeham
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Стр. 244 - And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then, Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last, And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace; But he rose upon their decks, and he cried: "I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true; I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do. With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die!
Стр. 243 - So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day, Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven ; But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the land Very carefully and slow, Men of Bideford in Devon, And we laid them on the ballast down below: For we brought them all aboard, And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left to Spain, To the thumb-screw and the stake, for the glory of the Lord.
Стр. 243 - Shall we fight or shall we fly? Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die ! There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set.
Стр. 257 - LONG lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm ; And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands; Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf In cluster ; then a moulder'd church ; and higher A long street climbs to one tall-towcr'd mill; And high in heaven behind it a gray down With Danish barrows ; and a hazelwood By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes Green in a cuplike hollow of the down.
Стр. 243 - With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck, But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead, And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head, And he said "Fight on! fight on!
Стр. 48 - Here I used to take the eggs and young ones of crows and magpies. This hill was a famous object in the neighbourhood. It served as the superlative degree of height. ' As high as Crooksbury Hill,' meant, with us, the utmost degree of height.
Стр. 221 - Our life is but a winter's day : Some only breakfast and away ; Others to dinner stay and are full fed; The oldest man but sups and goes to bed. Large is his debt who lingers out the day ; Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.
Стр. 241 - All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes upwards from its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and manyarched old bridge where salmon wait for autumn floods, towards the pleasant upland on the west.
Стр. 48 - The Thames was but a creek ! But when, in about a month after my arrival in, London, I went to Farnham, the place of my birth, what was my surprise...
Стр. 242 - ... in, cushioned with deep oak woods, through which juts here and there a crag of fern-fringed slate ; below they lower, and open more and more in softlyrounded knolls, and fertile squares of red and green, till they sink into the wide expanse of hazy flats, rich...