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Էջ 240 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns, And bowery hollows crowned with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Էջ 197 - The happiness of London is not to be conceived but by those who have been in it. I will venture to say, there is more learning and science within the circumference of ten miles from where we now sit, than in all the rest of the kingdom.
Էջ 81 - Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby. Now nought was heard beneath the skies, The sounds of busy life were still, Save an unhappy lady's sighs, That issued from that lonely pile.
Էջ 82 - Thus sore and sad that lady grieved, In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear ; And many a heartfelt sigh she heaved, And let fall many a bitter tear. And ere the dawn of day appeared, In Cumnor Hall, so lone and drear.
Էջ 107 - In the same pious confidence, beside her friend and sister, here sleep the remains of Dorothy Gray, widow, the careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone had the misfortune to survive her.
Էջ 26 - Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for an hermitage; If I have freedom in my love And in my soul am free, Angels alone, that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.
Էջ 11 - Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life, That I, considering everywhere Her secret meaning in her deeds...
Էջ 287 - He read his native chime : Youth, manhood, old age past, His bell rung out at last. Still when the storm of Bottreau's waves Is wakening .in his weedy caves: Those bells, that sullen surges hide, Peal their deep notes beneath the tide : "Come to thy God in time ! " Thus saith the ocean chime : Storm, billow, whirlwind past, "Come to thy God at last !
Էջ 82 - That hapless Countess e'er was seen! And in that Manor now no more Is cheerful feast and sprightly ball; For ever since that dreary hour Have spirits haunted Cumnor Hall. The village maids, with fearful glance, Avoid the ancient moss-grown wall; Nor ever lead the merry dance, Among the groves of Cumnor Hall. Full many a traveller oft hath sigh'd, And pensive wept the Countess' fall, As wandering onwards they've espied The haunted towers of Cumnor Hall.
Էջ 116 - I pleasantly said to him, Thou hast said much here of paradise lost, but what hast thou to say of paradise found...

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