The Vicar of Wakefield: A Tale

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Hahn, 1820 - 204 pages

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Page 86 - The wound it seem'd both sore and sad To every Christian eye ; And while they swore the dog was mad, They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light, That show'd the rogues they lied, The man recover'd of the bite, The dog it was that died.
Page 40 - Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, Restored to love and thee. " Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign : And shall we never, never part, My life, my all that's mine \ " No, never, from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true ; The sigh that rends thy constant heart, Shall break thy Edwin's too.
Page 4 - I ever took care to lend him a riding-coat, or a pair of boots, or sometimes a horse of small value, and I always had the satisfaction of finding he never came back to return them. By this the house was cleared of such as we did not like : but never was the family of Wakefield known to turn the traveller or the poor dependant out of doors.
Page 37 - Soft as the dew from heaven descends, His gentle accents fell ; The modest stranger lowly bends, And follows to the cell. Far in a wilderness obscure The lonely mansion lay, A refuge to the neighbouring poor, And strangers led astray. No stores beneath its humble thatch Required a master's care ; The wicket, opening with a latch, Received the harmless pair.
Page 4 - As we lived near the road, we often had the traveller or stranger visit us to taste our gooseberry wine, for which we had great reputation; and I profess, with the veracity of an historian, that I never knew one of them find fault with it.
Page 4 - ... they should sit with us at the same table. So that, if we had not very rich, we generally had very happy friends about us; for this remark will hold good through life, that the poorer the guest, the better pleased he ever is with being treated; and as some men gaze with admiration at the colours of a tulip , or the wing of a butterfly, so I was by nature an admirer of happy human faces.
Page 93 - This person was no other than the philanthropic bookseller in St. Paul's church-yard, who has written so many little books for children : he called himself their friend ; but he was the friend of all mankind. He was no sooner alighted, but he was in haste to be gone ; for he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually compiling materials for the history of one Mr. Thomas Trip.
Page 57 - I was willing enough to entrust him with this commission ; and the next morning I perceived his sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair ; trimming his hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring home groceries in. He had on a coat made of that cloth they call thunder and lightning, which, though grown too short, was much too good...
Page 138 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Page 18 - THE place of our retreat was in a little neighbourhood consisting of farmers, who tilled their own grounds, and were equal strangers to opulence and poverty. As they had almost all the conveniences of life within themselves, they seldom visited towns or cities in search of superfluity. Remote from the polite, they still retained the primeval simplicity of manners ; and, frugal by habit, they scarce knew that temperance was a virtue.

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