Friendship's Gift: A Souvenir for 1848Walter Percival John P. Hill, 1848 - 312 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 29
Página 19
... flowers in the sunshine - playing with the tassel of his night - cap , as he spoke it was like a full - blown thistle - top . - - An ' it please ye , father , flowers do n't drop asleep in the sunshine at the worst , they but dream a ...
... flowers in the sunshine - playing with the tassel of his night - cap , as he spoke it was like a full - blown thistle - top . - - An ' it please ye , father , flowers do n't drop asleep in the sunshine at the worst , they but dream a ...
Página 24
... mystery shall be cleared up , father . You shall be satisfied . I saw Anne Hathaway when the Queen spoke to her , and all eyes were upon her : I saw her - when she brought the flowers to lay at her 24 FRIENDSHIP'S GIFT .
... mystery shall be cleared up , father . You shall be satisfied . I saw Anne Hathaway when the Queen spoke to her , and all eyes were upon her : I saw her - when she brought the flowers to lay at her 24 FRIENDSHIP'S GIFT .
Página 25
A Souvenir for 1848 Walter Percival. - when she brought the flowers to lay at her majesty's feet and I saw her , when the great lord of Leicester would have snatched a kiss from her and she flung him off , and bounded away like a ...
A Souvenir for 1848 Walter Percival. - when she brought the flowers to lay at her majesty's feet and I saw her , when the great lord of Leicester would have snatched a kiss from her and she flung him off , and bounded away like a ...
Página 28
... flowers , and stranger fruit , lieved me , though they understood me not . more . stood me . broken up - they be- Boy - boy ! what's the matter with thee ! what's thee stretching forth thy arms for , so wildly ? what's thee reaching ...
... flowers , and stranger fruit , lieved me , though they understood me not . more . stood me . broken up - they be- Boy - boy ! what's the matter with thee ! what's thee stretching forth thy arms for , so wildly ? what's thee reaching ...
Página 45
... flower of all the field . SHAKSPEARE . " DEAR mother , is it not the bell I hear ? " " Yes , my child ; the bell for morning prayers . It is Sunday to - day . " " I had forgotten it . But now all days are alike to me . Hark ! it sounds ...
... flower of all the field . SHAKSPEARE . " DEAR mother , is it not the bell I hear ? " " Yes , my child ; the bell for morning prayers . It is Sunday to - day . " " I had forgotten it . But now all days are alike to me . Hark ! it sounds ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Friendship's Gift: A Souvenir for 1848 (Classic Reprint) Walter Percival Sin vista previa disponible - 2017 |
Términos y frases comunes
ancholy Anne Hathaway answered the black Arch of Titus Barker Bearcamp Bearcamp river beautiful beneath Berenice Bill Mink birds black fellow bosom Bowgun brave old world breast breath bright Campton Carl crowd death door dream earth eyes face fair father fear feel flaming shell flowers friends gaze gentleman girl grave hand happy haunted ground head hear heard heart heaven hill hope Horace Walpole hour knew ladies land light lips live look Ludovic Margaret Burnside Martha mind Moorside morning mother murderer never night night in heaven o'er once pace keep parish passed poor prayer rest round seemed shadow Shakspeare Silent Woman sleep smile song soon soul spirit stood story summer sweet tears thee things thou thought touched tree voice walk weep William Barker wind words young
Pasajes populares
Página 296 - That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the Moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind...
Página 273 - All thoughts, all passions, all delights, Whatever stirs this mortal frame, All are but ministers of Love, And feed his sacred flame. Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower. The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leant against the armed man.
Página 275 - The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long. She wept with pity and delight, She blushed with love, and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved, — she stepped aside, As conscious of my look she stept, — Then suddenly, with timorous eye She fled to me and wept.
Página 297 - I am the daughter of earth and water, And the nursling of the sky; I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; I change, but I can not die. For after the rain, when with never a stain The pavilion of heaven is bare, And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams Build up the blue dome of air...
Página 296 - The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes, And his burning plumes outspread, Leaps on the back of my sailing rack...
Página 276 - twas a bashful art, That I might rather feel, than see, The swelling of her heart.
Página 196 - This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal Boy! This can unlock the gates of Joy; Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears.
Página 253 - Ines" had always, for me, an inexpressible charm: O saw ye not fair Ines! She's gone into the West, To dazzle when the sun is down, And rob the world of rest...
Página 295 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Página 254 - ... been a beauteous dream, If it had been no more ! Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song ; With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng. But some were sad and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long. Farewell, farewell, fair Ines, That vessel never bore So fair a lady on its deck, Nor danced so light before, — Alas for pleasure on the sea, And sorrow on the shore ! The smile that blest one lover's heart...