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Стр. 90 - Paled in by many a lofty hill, The narrow dale lay smooth and still, And, down its verdant bosom led, A winding brooklet found its bed.
Стр. 32 - Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain, Here earth and water seem to strive again; Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised, But, as the world, harmoniously confused: Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree.
Стр. 40 - But here, - above, around, below, On mountain or in glen, Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, Nor aught of vegetative power, The weary eye may ken. For all is rocks at random thrown, Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone, As if were here denied The summer sun, the spring's sweet dew, That clothe with many a varied hue The bleakest mountain-side.
Стр. 41 - Beneath our feet, a little lowly vale, A lowly vale, and yet uplifted high Among the mountains ; even as if the spot Had been from eldest time by wish of theirs So placed, to be shut out from all the world!
Стр. 41 - So placed, to be shut out from all the world! Urn-like it was in shape, deep as an urn; With rocks encompassed, save that to the south Was one small opening, where a heath-clad ridge Supplied a boundary less abrupt and close; A quiet treeless nook, with two green fields, A liquid pool that glittered in the sun, And one bare dwelling; one abode, no more!
Стр. 93 - ... his own ideas, and in the progress of the plan, he was exclusively his own architect. On the west wing is a beautiful sculptured basso relievo historical representation of King Alfred receiving the report of the jury, as established in his reign. The costume and draperies are finely carved in stone. The interior of the castle is fitted up with great taste and effect. The richest mahogany has been used in almost every decoration. The walls being more than six feet thick, form a kind of frame for...
Стр. 168 - ART of BREWING on SCIENTIFIC PRINCIPLES. Adapted to the Use of Brewers and Private Families; with the value and :importance of Ute Saccl'arometer.
Стр. 114 - For neither Scottish Lomond's pride, Nor smooth Killarney's silver tide, Nor aught that learned Poussin drew, . Or dashing Rosa flung upon my view, Shall shake thy sovereign undisturbed right, Great scene of wonder and sublime delight!
Стр. 54 - There's nothing left to fancy's guess, You see that all is loneliness : And silence aids — though the steep hills Send to the lake a thousand rills ; In summer tide, so soft they weep, The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; Your horse's hoof-tread sounds too rude, So stilly is the solitude.