Transactions of the Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire for the Year ..., Volume 8

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Pedigrees and arms of various families of Lancashire and Cheshire are included in many of the volumes.

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Page 119 - We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence ; For it is, as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery.
Page 45 - Earth has not anything to show more fair : Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers,, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Page 46 - 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.
Page 47 - The night is chill ; the forest bare ; Is it the wind that moaneth bleak? There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Page 45 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The child is father of the man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Page 43 - The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Page 43 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Page 46 - A milk-white Hind, immortal and unchanged, Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged; Without unspotted, innocent within, She fear'd no danger, for she knew no sin.
Page 43 - The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades That drag the tragic, melancholy night, Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws Breathe foul, contagious darkness in the air.
Page 36 - Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is when unadorned adorned the most.

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