The Antiquary, Volume 31

Front Cover
Edward Walford, John Charles Cox, George Latimer Apperson
E. Stock, 1895 - Antiquities

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Page 22 - Thy Muse may, like those feathery tribes which spring From their rude rocks, extend her skirting wing Round the moist marge of each cold Hebrid isle To that hoar pile which still its...
Page 77 - Here's to thee, old apple-tree, Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow ! And whence thou mayst bear apples enow ! Hats full! caps full! Bushel — bushel — sacks full, And my pockets full too ! Huzza...
Page 168 - will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names Are five sweet symphonies, Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys.
Page 308 - To all who speak the English language, the history of the great agony through which the Republic of Holland was ushered into life must have peculiar interest, for it is a portion of the records of the Anglo-Saxon race — essentially the same, whether in Friesland, England, or Massachusetts.
Page 229 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretched out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength, And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.
Page 217 - May, to seek their health ; and the whole being found guilty, were sentenced to repent " in linens" three several sabbaths. 132 " And it is statute and ordained that if any person or persons be found superstitiously and idolatrously, after this, to have passed in pilgrimage to Christ's well on the Sundays of May to seek their health, they shall repent in sacco (sackeloth) and linen three several sabbaths, and pay twenty lib.
Page 118 - O that I had wings like a dove : for then would I flee away, and be at rest.
Page 215 - Montrose never lowered his aspect. The Provost, Duncan Forbes, taking leave of him at the town's end, said : ' My Lord, I am sorry for your circumstances.
Page 186 - I cannot think Nature is so spent and decayed, that she can bring forth nothing worth her former years. She is always the same, like herself; and when she collects her strength, is abler still. Men are decayed, and studies. She is not.
Page 22 - Or thither, where beneath the showery west The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid; Once foes, perhaps, together now they rest. No slaves revere them and no wars invade: Yet frequent now, at...

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