The Baronet's Family: A Novel1852 |
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Strona 16
... harp . Did he call forth one of his country's many martial airs ; his breast dilated and heaved , and his eye shot fire ; whilst those of a more melancholy kind produced a subdued expression of countenance , almost approaching to sad ...
... harp . Did he call forth one of his country's many martial airs ; his breast dilated and heaved , and his eye shot fire ; whilst those of a more melancholy kind produced a subdued expression of countenance , almost approaching to sad ...
Strona 17
A Novel Anne Beale. harp , into which he was throwing all the fire of his native enthusiasm , when he was aroused from his musical aberrations by a slight touch on his shoulder . He turned round , and his countenance brightened into a ...
A Novel Anne Beale. harp , into which he was throwing all the fire of his native enthusiasm , when he was aroused from his musical aberrations by a slight touch on his shoulder . He turned round , and his countenance brightened into a ...
Strona 18
... harp , and encircled it with her arms . With a soft , clear touch , she ran her fingers across the instrument , producing a simple prelude , and then began the air she had just heard . She got through the first part of it , but ap ...
... harp , and encircled it with her arms . With a soft , clear touch , she ran her fingers across the instrument , producing a simple prelude , and then began the air she had just heard . She got through the first part of it , but ap ...
Strona 19
... harp in his progress . " Oh , oh ! here you are then , " he cried . " This is how you steal away from us to your harp , instead of waiting to finish your game of play . We have been looking for you every where , and here comes Miriam ...
... harp in his progress . " Oh , oh ! here you are then , " he cried . " This is how you steal away from us to your harp , instead of waiting to finish your game of play . We have been looking for you every where , and here comes Miriam ...
Strona 50
... was already overclouded ; the harp was silent in the ancient hall ; the doors , so lately open to rich and poor , were closed ; the huntsman's horn echoed no more in the woods ; the voices 50 THE BARONET'S FAMILY . CHAPTER III. ...
... was already overclouded ; the harp was silent in the ancient hall ; the doors , so lately open to rich and poor , were closed ; the huntsman's horn echoed no more in the woods ; the voices 50 THE BARONET'S FAMILY . CHAPTER III. ...
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admiration amongst asked beautiful began bert Betto blessed blush cheek child Clare cottage countenance courage Craigy vellyn daugh David dear dear boy delight dress Eisteddfod exclaimed eyes face fancied father fear feeling felt gaze gentleman girl glance Glanheathyn grandfather Grant Gwen Gwenth Gwenthlean hand happy harp head horse Jenkins kind knew Lady Llewellen Lady Louisa Lady Somerville lean Lizzie Llandre Llewel Lloyd looked Lord Hastings mamma Mary's child Master Herbert miller mind Miriam Morgan morning mother mountain nature never Oxford Plas Llewellen poor replied rocks rose scarcely scene seated seemed side Sir Howel sister smile soon soul spoke stood stranger sweet tears thlean thought tion told turned uncon voice walk Walter Jones warm watched WELBECK STREET Welsh Welsh harp Welsh language Welsh ponies whilst wish words young lady
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 48 - I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu ! But was it such?
Strona 187 - WHITE as a white sail on a dusky sea. When half the horizon's clouded and half free, Fluttering between the dun wave and the sky, Is hope's last gleam in man's, extremity.
Strona 160 - By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not...
Strona 128 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Strona 292 - WHEN eyes are beaming What never tongue might tell, When tears are streaming From their crystal cell ; When hands are linked that dread to part. And heart is met by throbbing heart, Oh ! bitter, bitter is the smart Of them that bid farewell ! When hope is chidden That fain of bliss would tell.
Strona 27 - To cheer them on the vanished game ; But, stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallant horse exhausted fell. The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein, For the good steed, his labours o'er, Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more ; Then, touched with pity and remorse, He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse.