Tales of a Wayside Inn

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Ticknor & Fields, 1866 - 159 pages
 

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Page 15 - Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street, Wanders and watches with eager ears, Till in the silence around him he hears The muster of men at the barrack door, The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, And the measured tread of the grenadiers, Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Page 149 - I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair.
Page 43 - ROBERT of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Apparelled in magnificent attire, With retinue of many a knight and squire, On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. And as he listened, o'er and o'er again Repeated, like a burden or refrain, He caught the words, " Deposuit potentes De sede, et exaltamt humiles ; " And slowly lifting up his kingly head He to a learned clerk beside him said, " What mean these words ? " The clerk...
Page 18 - He has left the village and mounted the steep, And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides ; And under the alders, that skirt its edge, Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge. Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
Page 113 - Einar's bow in twain was broken, Einar only laughed. "What was that?" said Olaf, standing On the quarter-deck. "Something heard I like the stranding Of a shattered wreck.
Page 48 - Angel with great joy received his guests, And gave them presents of embroidered vests, And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. Then he departed with them o'er the sea Into the lovely land of Italy, Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade, With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur.
Page 154 - Lord, how beautiful was Thy day ! Every waft of the air Was a whisper of prayer, Or a dirge for the dead. Ho ! brave hearts that went down in the seas ! Ye are at peace in the troubled stream ; Ho ! brave land ! with hearts like these, Thy flag, that is rent in twain, Shall be one again, And without a seam ! SNOW-FLAKES.
Page 149 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.
Page 46 - To which King Robert answered, with a sneer, ' I am the King, and come to claim my own From an impostor, who usurps my throne ! ' And suddenly, at these audacious words, Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords ; The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, ' Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester ; thou Henceforth...
Page 20 - You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled, — How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load. So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice...

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