Eliza Cook's journal, Band 101854 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 100
Seite 9
... face , and as his conversational lecture proceeded , you saw gleams of mirth , archness , and benevolence ; always the same quaint , unaffected humour , making things go very amusingly . " He seemed always to be telling not so much what ...
... face , and as his conversational lecture proceeded , you saw gleams of mirth , archness , and benevolence ; always the same quaint , unaffected humour , making things go very amusingly . " He seemed always to be telling not so much what ...
Seite 13
... face , and I looked rite into the fire - place . The blue blazes was runnin round over the old chunk , ketchin hold here and lettin go thar , sometimes gwine most out , 13 and then blazin up a little - I couldn't speak - I was makin up ...
... face , and I looked rite into the fire - place . The blue blazes was runnin round over the old chunk , ketchin hold here and lettin go thar , sometimes gwine most out , 13 and then blazin up a little - I couldn't speak - I was makin up ...
Seite 26
... faces of the three men . Mr. C , with his hands thrown up and his eyes dilated , stood as if frozen with fright . My poor papa's face I shall never forget . He strove to speak , but his tongue refused . Large drops rolled down his ...
... faces of the three men . Mr. C , with his hands thrown up and his eyes dilated , stood as if frozen with fright . My poor papa's face I shall never forget . He strove to speak , but his tongue refused . Large drops rolled down his ...
Seite 29
... face about the room . known to me . Indeed , I have met him at parties . Was he not the grave gentleman who pronounced the Sauterne " good , excellent , " at Sir John Honsonboy's dinner party , and whom I met the next night , smoking a ...
... face about the room . known to me . Indeed , I have met him at parties . Was he not the grave gentleman who pronounced the Sauterne " good , excellent , " at Sir John Honsonboy's dinner party , and whom I met the next night , smoking a ...
Seite 30
... face , and cried , " Oh , heavens ! has every one forgotten me ! How truly vile a part I have played ! " It was John Weighton . * I heard the other day from a friend in Sydney , and he spoke of a highly estimable and united family he ...
... face , and cried , " Oh , heavens ! has every one forgotten me ! How truly vile a part I have played ! " It was John Weighton . * I heard the other day from a friend in Sydney , and he spoke of a highly estimable and united family he ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Abbotsford amongst answer appearance asked Battyr Bazouge beautiful better Birmingham called Chamonix character Charles Harpur child cholera church classes Courmayeur dark dear death door Drury Lane Eildon Hills England English eyes face father feel Fleet Street Friedli friends gentleman girl give hand happy head heard heart hills honour hour John Ketch Josephine labour lady Latitat live London look Lord marriage matter means Melrose Abbey ment mind Miss morning mother never night Niort once passed perhaps persons poor present quadrille replied Robert Owen Roger round scarcely Scotland seemed side Sir Walter Scott snow society soon spirit Street talk tell things thou thought tion took town turned village voice walk wife window woman women words young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 177 - What is that, Mother ? The swan, my love ! He is floating down, from his native grove ; No loved one, now, no nestling, nigh, He is floating down, by himself, to die; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song, is the last, he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swanlike and sweet, it may waft thee home!
Seite 257 - INTO the sunshine, Full of the light, Leaping and flashing From morn till night ; Into the moonlight, Whiter than snow, Waving so flower-like When the winds blow ; Into the starlight Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight, Happy by day ; Ever in...
Seite 163 - The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests : but the son of man hath not where to lay his head.
Seite 295 - The moon on the east oriel shone, Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined ; Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand, "Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, In many a freakish knot, had twined ; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Seite 49 - He stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men's bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew. Then King Admetus, one who had Pure taste by right divine...
Seite 177 - The swan, my love !He is floating down from his native grove ; No loved one now, no nestling nigh, He is floating down, by himself to die : Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.
Seite 151 - George's banner, broad and gay, Now faded, as the fading ray Less bright, and less, was flung; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the donjon tower, So heavily it hung.
Seite 177 - What is that mother ? The eagle, boy ! Proudly careering his course of joy, Firm, on his own mountain vigour relying, Breasting the dark storm, the red bolt defying ; His wing on the wind, and his eye on the sun, He swerves not a hair, but bears onward, right on. Boy, may the eagle's flight ever be thine, Onward and upward, and true to the line.
Seite 11 - But the greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or misplacing of the last or furthest end of knowledge. For men have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to entertain their minds with variety and delight ; sometimes for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction; and most times for lucre and profession...
Seite 177 - What is that, mother ? The dove, my son. — And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one's quick return. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove, — In friendship as faithful, as constant' in love. What is that, mother...