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Showing 1 - 10 of
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Happy England (Paperback)
Helen Paterson Allingham, Marcus Bourne Huish
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R863
Discovery Miles 8 630
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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Happy England (Hardcover)
Helen Paterson Allingham, Marcus Bourne Huish
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R1,178
Discovery Miles 11 780
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Ships in 10 - 15 working days
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This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger
Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain
imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed
pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we
have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting,
preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger
Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and
hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!
PREFACE AMONG my husbands papers I found, under his title of By the
Way, a series of paragraphs and notes on various subjects,
literary, ethical, critical. A selection from these, with others
gathered from his note-books, form the nucleus of this little
volume. To them have been added, at the beginning of the book, a
number of short poems and fragments of verse, mostly of an earlier
date than the prose notes. Many of these fragments sometimes only a
couple of lines giving a vivid picture of a natural scene or effect
must have been written when Allingham was a very young man living
in Ire land, closely watching and noting the moods of Nature in sea
and sky. In my selection and arrangement greatly assisted by Mrs.
Ernest Radford and Mrs. I have been Baumer Williams for the
publication, I alone am responsible. HELEN ALLINGHAM. HAMPSTEAD,
1912. TO THE FELLOW TRAVELLER Jog on, jog on, by valley and hill
Sight and Thought are never still. Selfsame Worldfor you and me we
think and see. Variously Here I show some thoughts of mine Gladly
would 1 look at thine. Jog on agree or not agree, Friendly pilgrims
let us be. VERSES AND FRAGMENTS VERSES THE HERMITAGE Far from the
citys smoke and stir My quiet Hermitage is made, Where summer beech
and winter fir Conjoin their hospitable shade. The north-star
crowns my wooded hill Of devious paths and thicket mild, And by my
garden foot a rill Sings to itself, like happy child. Childlike, I
love that skylarks trills This airy bloom along the hills Enchants
me newly budding trees, The bright brook shivering in the breeze,
The clumps of flowrs, the wandering smells, And every voice that
sinks or swells, And all the streaky blue above, As many years ago,
I love.Thank Heavn for thisIbut childlike, no Experience will not
come and go.
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