History of Worksop; with ... sketches of Sherwood forest and the neighbourhood1854 |
Other editions - View all
History of Worksop: With ... Sketches of Sherwood Forest and the Neighbourhood Edwin Eddison No preview available - 2018 |
History of Worksop: With ... Sketches of Sherwood Forest and the Neighbourhood Edwin Eddison No preview available - 2018 |
History of Worksop; with ... Sketches of Sherwood Forest and the Neighbourhood Edwin Eddison No preview available - 2020 |
Common terms and phrases
abbey abbot afterwards amongst ancient appearance Baron Bassetlaw beauty Bentinck Birkland born Budby Busli Byron Carburton castle Cavendish century chapel Charles church Clinton Clipstone Clumber Conisbrough Countess Cuckney daughter death descendants died Duke of Newcastle duke's Earl Manvers Earl of Shrewsbury Edward Edwinstowe eight England erected fair father feet France George granted hall Haughton heir Henry the Eighth Hewitt Holles honour king king's knight Lady lake land late Duke latter Lincoln Lord Lovetot Lumley marriage married Mary miles monks noble Norman Nottingham Nottinghamshire oaks Osberton paintings park passed Pelham Philip Medows Pierrepont possessions present priory Queen reign remains residence Richard Robin Hood Roche Abbey Roger de Busli Rufford Rufford Abbey Saint Saxon says scene Sherwood Forest Shireoaks side sister stands Thomas Thoresby Tickhill Tickhill Castle tion town trees village Viscount wall Welbeck William William de Lovetot wood Worksop Manor
Popular passages
Page 278 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me ; I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee — Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles, — nor cried aloud in worship of an echo ; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such ; I stood Among them, but not of them...
Page 287 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me, But let us part fair foes; I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may be Words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, And virtues which are merciful, nor weave Snares for the failing; I would also deem O'er others...
Page 289 - Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him: he had look'd Upon it till it could not pass away; He had no breath, no.
Page 249 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 75 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn Or busy housewife ply her evening care, No children run to lisp their sire's return Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 189 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 249 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine! Aye, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God!
Page 295 - Alas !" exclaims he. with a sudden burst of feeling, " why do I say my ? Our union would have healed feuds in which blood had been shed by our fathers ; it would have joined lands broad and rich ; it would have joined at least one heart, and two persons not ill-matched in years — and — and — and — what has been the result ?" But enough of Annesley Hall and the poetical themes connected with it.
Page 229 - The abbot were loth to tell. Companionless, for a mile or more, He traced the windings of the shore. Oh, beauteous is that river still, As it winds by many a sloping hill, And many a dim o'erarching grove, And many a flat and sunny cove, And terraced lawns, whose bright arcades The honeysuckle sweetly shades, And rocks, whose very crags seem bowers, So gay they are with grass and flowers...
Page 289 - She was his voice ; he did not speak to her, But trembled on her words ; she was his sight,(') For his eye follow'd hers, and saw with hers, Which colour'd all his objects:— he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously...