Bracebridge Hall, or the humorists

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George P. Putnam, 1849 - Astoria (Or.)
 

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Page 271 - UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE' UNDER the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat; Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Page 79 - The place was littered with wet straw that had been kicked about by travelers and stable-boys. In one corner was a stagnant pool of water, surrounding an island of muck; there were several half-drowned fowls crowded together under a cart, among which was a miserable, crest-fallen cock, drenched out of all life and spirit; his drooping tail matted, as it were, into a single feather, along which the water trickled from his back ; near the cart was a...
Page 39 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 79 - I was still feverish, and was obliged to keep within doors all day, in an inn of the small town of Derby. A wet Sunday in a country inn ! — whoever has had the luck to experience one can alone judge of my situation. The rain pattered against the casements ; the bells tolled for church with a melancholy...
Page 93 - ... beholding, on the banks of the Missouri, an oak of prodigious size, which had been in a manner overpowered by an enormous wild grape-vine. The vine had clasped its huge folds round the trunk, and from thence had wound about every branch and twig, until the mighty tree had withered in its embrace. It seemed like Laoc'oon ' struggling ineffectually in the hideous coils of the monster Python.
Page 82 - I read all the common-place names of ambitious travellers scrawled on the panes of glass ; the eternal families of the Smiths and the Browns, and the Jacksons and the Johnsons, and all the other sons ; and I deciphered several scraps of fatiguing inn-window poetry which I have met with in all parts of the world.
Page 88 - Twas plain, then, he was no radical, but a faithful subject; one who grew loyal over his bottle, and was ready to stand by king and constitution, when he could stand by nothing else. But who could he be? My conjectures began to run wild. Was he not some personage of distinction travelling incog.? "God knows!" said I, at my wit's end; "it may be one of the royal family for aught I know, for they are all stout gentlemen!" The weather continued rainy. The mysterious unknown kept his room and, as far...
Page 84 - I had not made many turns about the traveler's-room, when there was another ringing. Shortly afterwards there was a stir and an inquest about the house. The stout gentleman wanted the Times or the Chronicle newspaper. I set him down, therefore, for a whig; or rather, from his being so absolute and lordly where he had a chance, I suspected him of being a radical. Hunt, I had heard, was a large man ; " who knows," thought I,
Page 84 - The waiter came down in a huff. The butter was rancid, the eggs were overdone, the ham was too salt;— the stout gentleman was evidently nice in his eating; one of those who eat and growl, and keep the waiter on the trot, and live in a state militant with the household. The hostess got into a fume.
Page 383 - Barbara. She was in love; and he she loved proved mad And did forsake her. She had a song of 'willow' — An old thing 'twas, but it expressed her fortune, And she died singing it.

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