Uncle Horace: A Novel, Հատոր 2E.L. Carey & A. Hart, 1838 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 74–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 4
... young when their hearts beat high with hope , and their eyes are bright with love - when to them even autumn leaves look green , and winter winds feel warm - when the murmur of the brook is sweet in their ears as the song of a morning ...
... young when their hearts beat high with hope , and their eyes are bright with love - when to them even autumn leaves look green , and winter winds feel warm - when the murmur of the brook is sweet in their ears as the song of a morning ...
Էջ 6
... young and beautiful mo- ther from being happy in her way . " " She will never be happy , Lady Ellen , never — I say never . Oh , if you did but know 99 " Know what , my dear friend ? I am sure I did not mean to distress you , my dear ...
... young and beautiful mo- ther from being happy in her way . " " She will never be happy , Lady Ellen , never — I say never . Oh , if you did but know 99 " Know what , my dear friend ? I am sure I did not mean to distress you , my dear ...
Էջ 10
... young sculptor wrote by his direction , there can be no doubt that he made this hurried journey in consequence of a letter he received from me . You need not look astonished , Mary ; is there anything so extraordinary in my writing to ...
... young sculptor wrote by his direction , there can be no doubt that he made this hurried journey in consequence of a letter he received from me . You need not look astonished , Mary ; is there anything so extraordinary in my writing to ...
Էջ 15
... young girls come , " What ! did he die of love ? " " No , " replied Magdalene , " men seldom die of that , or women either ; but they die of the wearing out of hope , of disappointment , -the spirit withers and withers away within them ...
... young girls come , " What ! did he die of love ? " " No , " replied Magdalene , " men seldom die of that , or women either ; but they die of the wearing out of hope , of disappointment , -the spirit withers and withers away within them ...
Էջ 16
... young nor old . Albert met him somewhere near Rome- I forget those Italian names , but it was among some ruins ; he had gone there for shelter from the sun , and was em- ployed in sketching . The stranger praised his work , and he ...
... young nor old . Albert met him somewhere near Rome- I forget those Italian names , but it was among some ruins ; he had gone there for shelter from the sun , and was em- ployed in sketching . The stranger praised his work , and he ...
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Common terms and phrases
agony beautiful believe Blaney bless blood bosom brother Brown Lorton called carriage cheek child Count cursed D'Oraine D'Oraine's dare daugh daughter dear Mary door dream drugget England exclaimed eyes fancied fear feelings felt forgive girl hand happy Harry Mortimer hear heard heart Heaven honour hope Horace Brown horses hour imagine inquired interrupted knew Lady Ellen Revis leave letter lips Liverpool London look Lord Norley Madame Magdalene Magdalene's Mary Mary's mind mingled Miss Lorton morning mother Muskito never night Norley's observed once ostler painful pale paused Peter Peter Pike Philip Marsden poor Portsmouth postilions pray proud racter remember repeated replied Rinelli Ryde Sare sighed silence smile sorrow Southampton speak spirit spoke suffer sure talk tears tell thing thought told tone trembling truth Tummas turned Uncle Horace utter voice whispered window wish woman words young
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 1 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea: Listen!
Էջ 64 - Mystery hangs on all these desert places ! The Fear which hath no name, hath wrought a spell ! Strength, courage, wrath — have been, and left no traces ! They came, — and fled; — but whither! Who can tell ! We know but that they were, — that once (in days When ocean was a bar 'twixt man and man), Stout spirits wandered o'er these capes and bays, And perished where these river waters ran.
Էջ 181 - MEET me by moonlight alone, And then I will tell you a tale, Must be told by the moonlight alone, In the grove at the end of the vale.
Էջ 26 - Who as she smiles in the silvery light, Spreading her wings on the bosom of night, Alone on the deep, as the moon in the sky, A phantom of beauty, could deem, with a sigh, That so lovely a...
Էջ 111 - Honour, my lord, is much too proud to catch At every slender twig of nice distinctions. These, for the unfeeling vulgar, may do well : But those, whose souls are by the nicer rule Of virtuous delicacy nobly swayed, Stand at another bar than that of laws.
Էջ 84 - I loved thee passing well! — thou wert a beam Of pleasant beauty on this stormy sea ! With just so much of mirth as might redeem Man from the musings of his misery ; Yet ever pensive,— like a thing from home ! Lovely and lonely as a single star ! But kind and true to me, as thou hadst come From thine own element — so very far, Only to be a cynosure to eyes Now sickening at the sunshine of the skies...
Էջ 34 - THE PAINTER. I know not which is the most fatal gift, Genius or Love, for both alike are ruled By stars of bright aspect and evil influence.
Էջ 191 - The storm of horrours that surround its close. This little term of nature's agony Will soon be o'er, and what is past is past : But shall I then,' on the dark lap of earth • Lay me to rest, in still unconsciousness, Like senseless clod that doth no pressure feel From wearing foot of daily...
Էջ 30 - The tuilors knew his value— one in particular, when he heard of La Volante's difficulties, offered him five hundred francs a week, if he would only invent, appear, and cut out collars and lappels in his establishment. La Volante felt the insult bitterly, and ordered his valet to pet the porter to kick the fellow out.
Էջ 23 - Oh ! if thou hoverest round my walk, While, under every well-known tree, I to thy fancied shadow talk, And every tear is full of thee ; Should then the weary eye of grief, Beside some sympathetic stream, In slumber find a short relief, Oh, visit thou my soothing dream ! ODE ON BOLUS'S HARP.