The Sporting review, ed. by 'Craven'., Том 13

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John William Carleton
1845

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Стр. 155 - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round, walks on, And turns no more his head ; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
Стр. 77 - Let me play the Fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come ; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Стр. 199 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream.
Стр. 252 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Стр. 71 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.
Стр. 294 - Keep not standing, fixed and rooted, Briskly venture, briskly roam: Head and hand, where'er thou foot it, And stout heart, are still at home. In each land the sun does visit : We are gay whate'er betide. To give space for wand'ring is it That the world was made so wide.
Стр. 294 - I can't work !" that was the burden of all wise complaining among men. It is, after all, the one unhappiness of a man : that he cannot work ; that he cannot get his destiny as a man fulfilled. Behold, the day is passing swiftly over, our life is passing swiftly over ; and the night cometh, wherein no man can work. The night once come, our happiness, our unhappiness — it is all abolished ; vanished, clean gone ; a thing that has been.
Стр. 185 - By chase our long-lived fathers earned their food ; Toil strung the nerves and purified the blood : But we their sons, a pampered race of men, Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. Better to hunt in fields for health unbought Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. The wise for cure on exercise depend ; God never made his work for man to mend.
Стр. 200 - founded soon after the Conquest, but has at different times since received important additions ; its present form approaches to a circle, and the buildings are enclosed by an irregular court, surrounded by a moat. The entrance to the keep is through an elegant sculptured arched door-way, leading to a flight of steps, over which an apartment, called the dungeon-room, is shown as the place where Edward II. was barbarously• murdered. This building is flanked by three semicircular towers, and a square...
Стр. 120 - Ye distant spires ! ye antique towers ! That crown the watery glade -Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry's holy shade...

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