The History of Thirsk: Including an Account of Its Once Celebrated Castle, Topcliffe, Byland and Rievalx Abbeys, &c. &c. and Other Remains of Antiquity in the Neighbourhood, with Biographical Notices of Eminent Men

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R. Peat, 1821 - 180 頁
 

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第 141 頁 - Henry, by the grace of God, king of England and France, and lord of Ireland, To all to whom these present letters shall come greeting...
第 95 頁 - I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history; And, questionless, here in this open court, Which now lies naked to the injuries Of stormy weather, some men lie...
第 96 頁 - Loved the church so well, and gave so largely to't, They thought it should have canopied their bones Till doomsday ; but all things have their end : Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men, Must have like death that we have.
第 74 頁 - Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold, For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.
第 145 頁 - ... according to the skill or ingenuity of the performer. In the vacancy of the inside, from the top, hung white paper, cut in form of gloves, whereon was wrote the deceased'!
第 104 頁 - It is a singular circumstance, that the church, instead of standing East and West,* approaches more to the direction of North and South ; so that the choir is at the South end, and the North Aisle is on the East.
第 62 頁 - In the six hundredth year of Noah's life, in the second month, the seventeenth day of the month, on that day all the fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows of heaven were opened.
第 45 頁 - Bloom'd to thy wifh, or to thy foul was dear, This plaintive marble afks thee for a tear ! For here, alas ! too early fnatch'd away, All that was lovely Death has made his prey. No more her cheeks with crimfon rofes vie, No more the diamond...
第 133 頁 - Time, which antiquates antiquities, and hath an art to make dust of all things, hath yet spared these minor monuments.
第 27 頁 - I bade my fathers to look down, from the clouds of their hall; for, at the fame of their race, they brighten in the wind. I took a stone from the stream, amidst the song of bards. The blood of Fingal's foes hung curdled in its ooze. Beneath, I placed, at intervals, three bosses from the shields of foes, as rose or fell the sound of Ullin's nightly song. Toscar laid a dagger in earth, a mail of sounding steel. We raised the mould around the stone, and bade it speak to other years.

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