Nooks and Corners of the New England Coast

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Singing Tree Press, 1875 - 459 страници
 

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Страница 393 - he would have taken a ball in his breast," replied Lord George. For he opened his arms, exclaiming wildly, as he paced up and down the apartment during, a few minutes, " Oh, God ! it is all over !" Words which he repeated many times, under emotions of the deepest agitation and distress.
Страница 17 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
Страница 233 - Brazil. No sea but what is vexed by their fisheries. No climate that is not witness to their toils. Neither the perseverance of Holland, nor the activity of France, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the extent to which it has been pushed by this recent people ; a people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood.
Страница 67 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast...
Страница 231 - WE sat within the farmhouse old, Whose windows, looking o'er the bay, Gave to the sea-breeze, damp and cold, An easy entrance, night and day. Not far away we saw the port, — The strange, old-fashioned, silent town, — The lighthouse, — the dismantled fort, — The wooden houses, quaint and brown. We sat and talked until the night, Descending, filled the little room ; Our faces faded from the sight, Our voices only broke the gloom. We spake of many a vanished scene, Of what we once had thought...
Страница 384 - Westward the course of empire takes its way, The four first acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day : Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Страница 201 - Park, and around Rotherham. Here haunted of yore the fabulous Dragon of Wantley ; here were fought many of the most desperate battles during the Civil Wars of the Roses ; and here also flourished in ancient times those bands of gallant outlaws, whose deeds have been rendered so popular in English song.
Страница 402 - Another time M. Brewster came in with her face smeared and as black as a coal. Deborah Wilson went through the streets of Salem naked as she came into the world,* for which she was well whipped.
Страница 184 - O SAILORS, did sweet eyes look after you The day you sailed away from sunny Spain ? Bright eyes that followed fading ship and crew, . Melting in tender rain ? Did no one dream of that drear night to be, Wild with the wind, fierce with the stinging snow, When on yon granite point that frets the sea, The ship met her death-blow ? Fifty long years ago these sailors died : (None know how many sleep beneath the waves :) Fourteen gray head-stones, rising side...
Страница 283 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground. The soil where first they trod. They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God.

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