Born to be a Lady. A Novel

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Էջ 329 - tis true I have gone here and there And made myself a motley to the view, Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old offences of affections new. Most true it is that I have look'd on truth Askance and strangely; but, by all above. These blenches gave my heart another youth, And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
Էջ 303 - ... and part. Nay, I have done, you get no more of me! And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That thus so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever! Cancel all our vows! And when we meet at any time again, Be it not seen in either of our brows That we one jot of former love retain. Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And Innocence is closing up his eyes — Now, if thou would'st, when...
Էջ 257 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
Էջ 345 - Here is a work in certain respects one of the most singular in modern literature, which surpasses all of its class in bold and luxuriant imagination, in vivid descriptive power, in startling — not to say extravagant suggestions — in lofty and delicate moral sympathies. It is difficult to read it with a serious countenance : yet it is impossible not to read it with curious interest, and sometimes with profound admiration. The author's imagination hath run mad, but often there is more in his philosophy...
Էջ 274 - O'er joys that God hath for a season lent, Perchance to try thy spirit, and its bent, Effeminate soul and base- — weakly to mourn. There lies no desert in the land of life, For e'en that tract that barrenest doth seem, Laboured of thee in faith and hope, shall teem With heavenly harvests and rich gatherings, rife.
Էջ 349 - THE SURGEON'S SECRET. By SYDNEY MOSTYN, Author of " Kitty's Rival," etc. Crown 8vo., los. 6d. "A most exciting novel — the best on our list. It may be fairly recommended as a very extraordinary book.

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