The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy: Their Natural History, Manners, Customs, Superstitions, Scenery, Antiquities, Eminent Persons, Etc, Volume 1

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W. Kent and Company, 1879 - Devon (England)
 

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Page 273 - There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook.
Page 360 - Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love : Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues ; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent ; for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
Page 266 - Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : who maketh the clouds his chariot ; who walketh upon the wings of the wind...
Page 190 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace was slain ; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Page 354 - First Moloch, horrid king besmeared with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears, Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud Their children's cries unheard, that passed through fire To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite Worshipped in Rabba and her watery plain, In Argob and in Basan, to the stream Of utmost Arnon.
Page 87 - And he defiled Topheth, which is in the valley of the children of Hinnom, that no man might make his son or his daughter to pass through the fire to Molech.
Page 130 - French savants had so long attempted in vain. Many an officer (for a large body of troops had guarded for years the French prison on the Moor) no doubt had visited...
Page 168 - Which for the colours did excel, The fair Queen Mab becoming well, So lively was the limning; The seat the soft wool of the bee, The cover (gallantly to see) The wing of a pied butterfly; I trow 'twas simple trimming. The wheels composed of crickets...
Page 168 - And somewhat southward toward the noon, Whence lies a way up to the moon. And thence the Fairy can as soon Pass to the earth below it. The walls of spiders...
Page 168 - For naught must be her letting; Four nimble gnats the horses were, Their harnesses of gossamer, Fly Cranion her charioteer, Upon the coach-box getting. Her chariot of a snail's fine shell, Which for the colours did excel, The fair queen Mab becoming well, So lively was the limning; The seat...

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