De Vane: A Story of Plebeians and Patricians, Bind 1–2Blelock, 1865 - 552 sider |
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Side 31
... The cool Octóber air was pure , and the angelic hosts seemed to look out from the sky , to light the pilgrims of earth to the realms of the happy and the immortal . CHAPTER IV . HER voice is hovering o'er my soul DE VANE . 31.
... The cool Octóber air was pure , and the angelic hosts seemed to look out from the sky , to light the pilgrims of earth to the realms of the happy and the immortal . CHAPTER IV . HER voice is hovering o'er my soul DE VANE . 31.
Side 34
... happy to see you in my house . Your friend , Mr. Waring , has made me feel as if I had long known you . ” De Vane bowed low , and he was presented to the other gentlemen . Up to this time , De Vane had not seen Es- ther ; but , turning ...
... happy to see you in my house . Your friend , Mr. Waring , has made me feel as if I had long known you . ” De Vane bowed low , and he was presented to the other gentlemen . Up to this time , De Vane had not seen Es- ther ; but , turning ...
Side 36
... happy to say that he is to be here sometime this winter . " Mr. Clarendon replied : " I am happy to hear it . I have been taught by a good aunt of mine to venerate him , for she ranks him next to her friend Bishop Asbury . " De Vane ...
... happy to say that he is to be here sometime this winter . " Mr. Clarendon replied : " I am happy to hear it . I have been taught by a good aunt of mine to venerate him , for she ranks him next to her friend Bishop Asbury . " De Vane ...
Side 42
... happy valley of Rasselas . Waring , " said he , " you were to take me to see Miss Wordsworth's school ; shall we go there now ? ” Waring smiled . " Why , De Vane , " said he , " this is a holiday , and we shall not find Miss Wordsworth ...
... happy valley of Rasselas . Waring , " said he , " you were to take me to see Miss Wordsworth's school ; shall we go there now ? ” Waring smiled . " Why , De Vane , " said he , " this is a holiday , and we shall not find Miss Wordsworth ...
Side 44
... happy as the days are long . ” " His language is good , " said De Vane ; " and he seems to be as humble as if he had never been indulged . " " Yes , he loves his young mistress - thinks himself too happy in being permitted to serve her ...
... happy as the days are long . ” " His language is good , " said De Vane ; " and he seems to be as humble as if he had never been indulged . " " Yes , he loves his young mistress - thinks himself too happy in being permitted to serve her ...
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De Vane: A Story of Plebeians and Patricians Henry W. (Henry Washington) Hilliard Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2012 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
admiration agreeable Amalek ardor aristocratic asked aunt beautiful Bishop blacksmith bowed Bowen bright called carriage charm cheerful Christian Claren Clarendon College comprehend conversation course delighted Duke of Saxe-Weimar earnest entered Esther Esther rose exclaimed eyes face feel felt flowers gentlemen Gildersleeve glory glowing Guilford Habersham hand happy hear heard heart heaven hope horse impressed interest ladies learned Leasowes letter light little Eva little girl looked Lord Lord Byron Madame De Staël Mary Sinclair Methodist Miss Godolphin Miss Wordsworth Mlle morning nature never noble observed passed passion patrician perfect person present replied Waring rose sadness seated seemed seen sentiment smiled soul speak splendor spoke Spring Springfield stood sympathy tastes tears Thank thing tion took turned uttered Vane Vane's Vesperini Virginia walked Waring's wish woman young
Populære passager
Side 243 - O Lady! we receive but what we give And in our life alone does Nature live: Ours is her wedding garment, ours her shroud! And would we aught behold of higher worth, Than that inanimate cold world allowed To the poor loveless ever-anxious crowd, Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the Earth And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and potent voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds the life and element!
Side 256 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims aronnd him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Side 491 - The world can never give The bliss for which we sigh ; 'Tis not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die.
Side 29 - And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent: because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.
Side 174 - Lay her i' the earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring!
Side 486 - Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Side 38 - Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree will mourn its shade, The winds bewail the leafless tree — But none shall breathe a sigh for me! My life is like the prints which feet Have left on Tampa's desert strand; Soon as the rising tide shall beat, All trace will vanish from the sand; Yet, as if grieving to efface All vestige of the human race, On that lone shore loud moans the sea — But none, alas! shall mourn for me!
Side 94 - Now go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not ; but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.
Side 293 - With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What! may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?
Side 256 - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He recked not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday, — All this rushed with his blood. — Shall he expire, And unavenged? — Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!