Chronicles and Stories of the Craven Dales

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Simpkin, Marshall & Company, 1881 - 472 sayfa
 

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Sayfa 416 - I remember, Two miles on this side of the fort, the road Crosses a deep ravine ; 'tis rough and narrow, And winds with short turns down the precipice. And in its depth there is a mighty rock, Which has, from unimaginable years, Sustained itself with terror and with toil Over a gulf, and with the agony With which it clings seems slowly coming down...
Sayfa 54 - When soft ! — the dusky trees between, And down the path through the open green, Where is no living thing to be seen ; And through yon gateway, where is found, Beneath the arch with ivy bound, Free entrance to the churchyard ground, And right across the verdant sod, Towards the very house of God ; — Comes gliding in with lovely gleam, Comes gliding in serene and slow, Soft and silent as a dream, A solitary doe...
Sayfa 54 - Recites the holy liturgy, The only voice which you can hear Is the river murmuring near. — When soft ! — the dusky trees between, And down the path through the open green, Where is no living thing to be seen ; And through yon gateway, where is found, Beneath the arch with ivy bound, Free entrance to the churchyard ground...
Sayfa 416 - With which it clings seems slowly coming down; Even as a wretched soul, hour after hour, Clings to the mass of life; yet clinging, leans; And leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss In which it fears to fall: beneath this crag, Huge as despair, as if in weariness, The melancholy mountain yawns . . . below...
Sayfa 57 - What harmonious pensive changes Wait upon her as she ranges Round and through this pile of state, Overthrown and desolate ! Now a step or two her way Is through space of open day, Where the enamoured sunny light Brightens her that was so bright ; Now doth a delicate shadow fall, Falls upon her like a breath, From some lofty arch or wall, As she passes underneath...
Sayfa 53 - Its courts are ravaged ; but the tower Is standing with a voice of power, That ancient voice which wont to call To mass or some high festival ; And in the shattered fabric's heart Remaineth one protected part ; A rural Chapel, neatly drest, In covert like a little nest ; And thither young and old repair, This Sabbath-day, for praise and prayer.
Sayfa 54 - Comes gliding in with lovely gleam, Comes gliding in serene and slow, Soft and silent as a dream, A solitary Doe ! White she is as lily of June, And beauteous as the silver moon When out of sight the clouds are driven, And she is left alone in heaven ; Or like a ship some gentle day In sunshine sailing far away. A glittering ship, that hath the plain Of ocean for her own domain.
Sayfa 416 - And, leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss In which it fears to fall ; beneath this crag Huge as despair, as if in weariness, The melancholy mountain yawns ; below, You hear but see not an impetuous torrent Raging among the caverns, and a bridge* Crosses the chasm ; and high above there grow, With intersecting trunks, from crag to crag, Cedars, and yews, and pines ; whose tangled hair Is matted in one solid roof of shade By the dark ivy's twine. At noonday here 'Tis twilight, and at sunset blackest...
Sayfa 57 - Claphams and Mauleverers stand; And, in his place, among son and sire, Is John de Clapham, that fierce Esquire, A valiant man, and a name of dread In the ruthless wars of the White and Red; Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury Church And smote off his head on the stones of the porch...
Sayfa 242 - That dwelt in your green solitudes, and filled The air, the fields, with beauty and with joy Intense ; — with a rich mystery that awed The mind, and flung around a thousand hearths Divinest tales, that through the enchanted year Found passionate listeners ! The very streams Brightened with visitings of these so sweet...

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