A pedestrian tour of thirteen hundred and forty-seven miles through Wales and England, by Pedestres, and sir Clavileno Woodenpeg, knight of Snowdon, Band 2Saunders and Otley, 1836 |
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A Pedestrian Tour of Thirteen Hundred and Forty-Seven Miles Through Wales ... Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2020 |
A Pedestrian Tour of Thirteen Hundred and Forty-Seven Miles Through Wales ... Pedestres (pseud ) Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2020 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Abbey Aberystwith ancient answered astonished bard beautiful Beddgelert bridge Bridgend Caernarvon Cæsar called candle Capel Curig castle CHAPTER Chepstow chwi close cottage cried delightful devil Devil's Bridge distance Dolgellau Dolgelley door druids Dulcinea England entered exclaimed eyes fancy feel feet Fidelio Gaster Gelert Gradus hand hast head heard heaven hill honour hundred Ille-ego imagine inquired instant Jingo Julius Cæsar knapsack ladies legs Llanberis Llandogo look Lord Lord Byron Lyrosus miles mountain never night Owain Cyfeiliog passed Pedestres perhaps Powys prince reader reign river road round Saxon Shakspeare side Sidmouth Sir Clavileno Snowdon soon speak stand step stone stood strange suppose sweet tell thee thing thou thought tion Tiverton told tongue took tower town true turned village Wales walk walls wander Welsh Welsh language wind woman word
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 7 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, . Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Seite 33 - This was the most unkindest cut of all ; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors...
Seite 240 - Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view; The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody valleys, warm and low ; The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky! The pleasant seat, the ruined tower, The naked rock, the shady bower ; The town and village, dome and farm, Each give each a double charm, As pearls upon an ^Ethiop's arm.
Seite 382 - Where'er we gaze, around, above, below, What rainbow tints, what magic charms are found : Rock, river, forest, mountain, all abound, And bluest skies that harmonize the whole : Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet please the soul.
Seite 225 - Lo ! Cintra's glorious Eden intervenes In variegated maze of mount and glen. Ah, me ! what hand can pencil guide, or pen, To follow half on which the eye dilates...
Seite 40 - Dear sensibility! source inexhausted of all that's precious in our joys, or costly in our sorrows! thou chainest thy martyr down upon his bed of straw and 'tis thou who lift'st him up to HEAVEN Eternal fountain of our feelings! 'tis here I trace thee and this is thy "divinity which stirs within me...
Seite 189 - The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait...
Seite 15 - And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes...
Seite 169 - THERE is in souls a sympathy with sounds, And as the mind is pitched the ear is pleased With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave. Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touched within us, and the heart replies.
Seite 40 - Eternal fountain of our feelings! 'tis here I trace thee and this is thy "divinity which stirs within me" not, that in some sad and sickening moments, "my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction" mere pomp of words! but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself all comes from thee, great great SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but falls upon the ground, in the remotest desert of thy creation...