Rural Tales, Ballads, and Songs

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Vernor, Hood, and Sharpe, 1805 - 119 pages

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Page 98 - I strove, from that auspicious day. To meet and bless the lovely Maid, I met her where beneath our feet Through downy Moss the wild Thyme grew; Nor Moss elastic, flow'rs sweet, Match'd Hannah's cheek of rosy hue.
Page 78 - I read aloud to every Hill Sweet Emma's Love, * the Nut-brown Maid.' Shaking his matted mane on high The gazing Colt would raise his head; Or...
Page 46 - Again heap'd up, then down again ; The sand above more hollow grew, Like days and years still filtering through, And mingling joy and pain.
Page 82 - But ah ! ye cooling springs, farewell! Herds, I no more your freedom share ; But long my grateful tongue shall tell What brought your gazing stranger there.
Page 58 - For much she fear'd the grisly ghost Would leap upon her back. Still on, pat, pat, the goblin went, As it had done before: Her strength and resolution spent, She fainted at the door.
Page 57 - Yet once again, amidst her fright, She tried what sight could do ; When through the cheating glooms of night, A monster stood in view. Regardless of whate'er she felt, It follow'd down the plain ; She own'd her sins, and down she knelt, And said her pray'rs again.
Page 77 - And crown'd the upland's graceful swell ; While answering through the vale was heard Each distant heifer's tinkling bell. Hail, greenwood shades, that, stretching far, Defy e'en summer's noontide power, When August in his burning car Withholds the clouds, withholds the shower.
Page 57 - She turn'd, it stopped ; nought could she see Upon the gloomy plain ; But as she strove the sprite to flee, She heard the same again. Now terror...
Page 57 - THE lawns were dry in Euston Park — Here truth inspires my tale, — The lonely footpath, still and dark, Led over hill and dale. Benighted was an ancient dame, And fearful haste she made To gain the vale of Fakenham, And hail its willow shade. Her footsteps knew no idle stops, But follow'd faster still ; And echo'd to the darksome copse That whisper'd on the hill...
Page 60 - For many a laugh went through the vale, And some conviction too : Each thought some other goblin tale, Perhaps, was just as true.

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