Running Sketches of Men and Places: In England, France, Germany, Belgium, and Scotland

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J. C. Riker, 1851 - 346 pages

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Page 206 - The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen. The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom, The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between, The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been In mockery of man's art ; and these withal A race of faces happy as the scene, Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, Still springing o'er thy banks, though Empires near them fall.
Page 204 - Away with these; true Wisdom's world will be Within its own creation, or in thine, Maternal Nature! for who teems like thee, Thus on the banks of thy majestic Rhine? There Harold gazes on a work divine, A blending of all beauties; streams and dells, Fruit, foliage, crag, wood, corn-field, mountain, vine, And chiefless castles breathing stern farewells From grey but leafy walls, where Ruin greenly dwells.
Page 151 - Seemed with its piercing melody to reach The soul, and in mysterious unison Blend with all thoughts of gentleness and love.
Page 204 - And there they stand, as stands a lofty mind, Worn, but unstooping to the baser crowd, All tenantless, save to the crannying wind, Or holding dark communion with the cloud. There was a day when they were young and proud, Banners on high, and battles pass'd below; But they who fought are in a bloody shroud, And those which waved are shredless dust ere now, And the bleak battlements shall bear no future blow.
Page 206 - Adieu to thee, fair Rhine ! How long delighted The stranger fain would linger on his way ! Thine is a scene alike where souls united Or lonely Contemplation thus might stray ; And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey On self-condemning bosoms, it were here, Where Nature, nor too sombre nor too gay, Wild but not rude, awful yet not austere, Is to the mellow Earth as Autumn to the year.
Page 202 - As it flows down from the distant ridges of the Alps, through fertile regions into the open sea, so it comes down from remote antiquity, associated in every age with momentous the history of the neighbouring nations.
Page 340 - IN some wild forest shade, Under some spreading oak, or waving pine, Or old elm, festooned with the gadding vine, Let me be laid.
Page 64 - I will go to my tent, and lie down in despair ; I will paint me with black, and will sever my hair ; I will sit on the shore where the hurricane blows, And reveal to the god of the tempest my woes ; I will weep for a season, on bitterness fed, For my kindred are gone to the hills of the dead ; But they died not by hunger, or lingering decay — The steel of the white man hath swept them away.
Page 341 - But o'er me songs of the wild birds shall burst, Cheering the spot. Not amid charnel stones, Or coffins dark, and thick with ancient mould, With tattered pall, and fringe of cankered gold, May rest my bones ; But let the dewy rose, The snow-drop and the violet, lend perfume Above the spot where, in my grassy tomb, I take repose.
Page 183 - The position of the Tomb, in which once reposed the mortal remains of Charlemagne, is marked by a large slab of marble under the centre of the dome, inscribed with the words

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