Spring in a Shropshire Abbey (Classic Reprint) - Softcover

Inhaltsangabe

Excerpt from Spring in a Shropshire Abbey

Here, winter holds his unrejoicing court, And through his airy hall the loud misrule Of driving tempest is for ever heard. Thomson's Seasons.

I'r was a dark, dismal day. Thick black clouds hung across the sky. There was a faint chirping Of Sparrows amongst the lifeless creepers, and that was all. A roaring fire burnt in my grate; before which my dog, a great tawny creature Of the boarhound breed, lay sleeping at her ease. It was cold, very cold; in all nature there seemed no life. A white, thick covering rested upon the ground. Snow had fallen heavily the last week of the Old year, and much, I feared, must fall again, judging by the yellowish grey, leaden pall I saw overhead.

I lay in bed the doctor had just been, and had pre scribed for me a day Of rest, and a day in the house, on account Of a chill caught the week before.

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