abbey abbot admirable afterwards ancient appearance arches architecture banks beautiful Berkshire Birinus Bishop Blowing Stone Brentford bridge Buckinghamshire building built called Castle celebrated century chancel chapel Charles Chertsey church Cirencester Colne course Coway Cricklade curious Datchet distance Earl edifice England erected fame Faringdon feet garden Gravesend grounds Hampton Court Harcourt Hedsor Henry Henry VIII Hill honour Horace Walpole inhabitants King lady Lechlade lived lofty London look Lord manor mansion meadows memory ment miles monastery monks monument Mortlake neighbourhood noble notice Oxford Oxford Castle Oxfordshire painted palace Pangbourne Park passed picturesque pleasant poet Pope Pope's present pretty probably Queen Radcot Bridge railway rambler reign remains residence Richmond river royal Saxon says scene scenery side Sion stands stone stream taste Thames tion tower town trees Twickenham village visitor walk walls William Windsor Windsor Castle Wolsey worth
Page 164 - Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn.
Page 28 - Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the landscape round it measures; Russet lawns, and fallows gray, Where the nibbling flocks do stray; Mountains, on whose barren breast The labouring clouds do often rest; Meadows trim with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; Towers and battlements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.
Page 90 - Who gave the ball, or paid the visit last; One speaks the glory of the British Queen, And one describes a charming Indian screen; A third interprets motions, looks, and eyes; At every word a reputation dies.
Page 196 - A man so various that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, Was everything by starts and nothing long; But in the course of one revolving moon Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking.
Page 26 - Spring was published next year, with a dedication to the countess of Hertford ; whose practice it was to invite every summer some poet into the country, to hear her verses, and assist her studies. This honour was one summer conferred on Thomson, who took more delight in carousing with lord Hertford and his friends than assisting her ladyship's poetical operations, and therefore never received another summons.
Page 159 - ... should be easy, in the nature of things it cannot be: there must always be some degree of care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable to him : and no man, but a very impudent...
Page 216 - Henry's holy shade; And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way: Ah happy hills!
Page 129 - A grotto is not often the wish or pleasure of an Englishman, who has more frequent need to solicit than exclude the sun ; but Pope's excavation was requisite as an entrance to his garden, and, as some men try to be proud of their defects, he extracted an ornament from an inconvenience, and vanity produced a grotto where necessity enforced a passage.
Page 8 - My next and last example shall be that under-valuer of money, the late Provost of Eton College, Sir Henry Wotton, a man with whom I have often fished and conversed, a man whose foreign employments in the service of this nation, and whose experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness, made his company to be esteemed one of the delights of mankind...
Page 197 - In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung The floors of plaster, and the walls of dung, On once a flock-bed, but repair'd with straw, With tape-tied curtains, never meant to draw, The George and Garter dangling from that bed Where tawdry yellow strove with dirty red, Great Villiers lies...