The history and antiquities of Eyam: with a minute account of the great plague, which desolated that village in the year 1666Bell and Daldy, 1865 - 244 páginas |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
aforesayd Alice Anna Seward antiquity ashes August awful beautiful Bradshaw Bretton Bubnell burial buried called chancel Charles Hargrave church churchyard Countess of Burlington Dale daughter Dawson dead dear death Derby Derbyshire desolation died Dioclesian distemper doe give dreadful Eakring Earl Edward Cooper Elizabeth Emmot erected Eyam Hall Eyam Moor Foolow Francis Frith Furnival George Benson give & bequeath grave Halksworth Hall Hancock Henry honour infection inhabitants of Eyam inscription interred John July land living Lord lovely married Mary MARY HOWITT memory mineral Miss Seward Mompesson monument mortality Morteyne Mortin neighbour Peak persons pest pestilence plague Rector of Eyam resided Richard Furness Riley Robert Roman Rowland Mower Saxon sayd Sheffield Sir George Saville Stafford Stanley stone Stony Middleton sufferers Sydall Talbot terrible Thomas Thornley Thorpe Tideswell tomb Torre Treeton victims villagers of Eyam visited wife
Pasajes populares
Página 170 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Página 101 - Sir, I have made bold in my will with your name for executor, and I hope you will not take it ill. I have joined two others with you, who will take from you the trouble. Your favourable aspect, will I know, be a great comfort to my distressed orphans. I am not desirous that they should be great, but good ; and my next request is that they be brought up in the fear and admonition of the Lord.
Página 100 - This is the saddest news that ever my pen could write. The destroying Angel having taken up his quarters within my habitation, my dearest wife is gone to her eternal rest, and is invested with a crown of righteousness, having made a happy end. Indeed, had she loved herself as well as me, she had fled from the pit of destruction with the sweet babes, and might have prolonged her days ; but she was resolved to die a martyr to my interest. My drooping spirits are much refreshed with her joys, which...
Página 102 - Or why so long (in life if long can be) Lent Heaven a parent to the poor and me ? What makes all physical or moral ill?
Página 182 - Such was he, unsubdued. But Heaven was gracious ; yet a little while, And this Survivor, with his cheerful throng Of open projects, and his inward hoard Of unsunned griefs, too many and too keen, Was overcome by unexpected sleep, In one blest moment. Like a shadow thrown Softly and lightly from a passing cloud, Death fell upon him...
Página 46 - Now the low beams with paper garlands hung, In memory of some village youth or maid, Draw the soft tear, from thrill'd remembrance sprung ; How oft my childhood marked that tribute paid ! The gloves suspended by the garland's side, White as its snowy flow'rs with ribands tied. Dear village ! long these wreaths funereal spread — Simple memorial of the early dead.
Página 172 - But why dost thou judge thy brother ? or why dost thou set at nought thy brother? We shall all stand before the judgment-seat of Christ.
Página 151 - I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls : and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook, there, its lonely head : the moss whistled to the wind.
Página 63 - London, in the year 1665, the infection was conveyed by means of a parcel of clothes to the remote village of Eyam near Tidewell, in the Peak of Derbyshire. In this place it broke out in September, 1665, and continued its ravages upwards of a year, when 260 of the inhabitants had died of it.
Página 28 - I look upon a region wild and wide, A realm of mountain, forest haunt, and fell, And fertile valleys, beautifully lone; Where fresh and far romantic waters roam, Singing a song of peace by many a cottage home.