The lies of young Wilding, and the sentiments in Joseph Surface, were thus marked out in a sort of italics to the audience.

The lies of young Wilding, and the sentiments in Joseph Surface, were thus marked out in a sort of italics to the audience.

Young Wilding ...

What kind o' God, &c. "There is a kind of crab-tree also or wilding that in like manner beareth twice a yeare."

a week, and grow good, Messrs. Wilding and Strachan generously opened a room connected with their mill in New Hall-lane, for secular and religious instruction.

I, too, was young once, I had my wilding devil's beauty,an inflammatory eye, an inflammable heart.

Wilding Windmills at Finsbury (See Stow's Survey, b. iii, p. 70, ed. 1720.)

A.F. WILDING MISS EASTLAKE SMITH AND MR.

A.F. WILDING MISS EASTLAKE SMITH AND MR.

BEAUFORT, the lover of Maria Wilding, whom he ultimately marries.

George Philpot is destined to be the husband of Maria Wilding, but as Maria Wilding is in love with Beaufort, she behaves so sillily to her betrothed that he refuses to marry her, whereupon she gives her hand to Beaufort (1757).

George Philpot is destined to be the husband of Maria Wilding, but as Maria Wilding is in love with Beaufort, she behaves so sillily to her betrothed that he refuses to marry her, whereupon she gives her hand to Beaufort (1757).

SEE Wilding, Clinton F. UNITED STATES CODE ANNOTATED.

WILDING, CLINTON F. Designs for bag printing.

SEE Wilding, Clinton F. UNITED STATES CODE ANNOTATED.

WILDING, CLINTON F. Designs for bag printing.

Oscar Wilde discovers America, 1882.

Oscar Wilde discovers America, 1882.

Still, from memory's urn, The lingering blossoms tenderly Refute our wilding minstrelsy.

No flower of the light can find Refuge beneath its trees; Only the darkening ivy climbs Mingled with wilding rose, And cypress, morn and evening, time's Black shadow throws.

Now his greed's green doth gaze unseen On a pure face of wilding rose, Her amber eyes In fear's surprise Watch largely as she goes, Watch largely as she goes.

Matthew is in his grave, yet now, Methinks, I see him stand, As at that moment, with a bough Of wilding in his hand.

These, and the house where I was born, Low and little, and black and old, With children, many as it can hold, All at the windows, open wide, Heads and shoulders clear outside, And fair young faces all ablush: Perhaps you may have seen, some day, Roses crowding the self-same way, Out of a wilding, way-side bush.

Yet still the wilding flowers would blow, The golden leaves would fall, The seasons come, the seasons go.

but so calm That death seemed nothingeven death, The thing we deem every thing heart can think; Amid wilding roses that shed their balm, Careless of Mosby he layin a charm!