Sartain's Union Magazine of Literature and Art, Tom 7Caroline Matilda Kirkland, John Seely Hart 1850 |
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Strona 6
... perhaps , to eradicate entirely the seeds of the sectarianism in his son which so much discomposed his wishes . We have little means of information as to his course of con- duct in Paris . He has been accused of being not insensible to ...
... perhaps , to eradicate entirely the seeds of the sectarianism in his son which so much discomposed his wishes . We have little means of information as to his course of con- duct in Paris . He has been accused of being not insensible to ...
Strona 18
... perhaps it is not necessary that the heart should have anything to do with it . " " I am afraid I am too old - fashioned to dis- pense with it , " said the beauty with a smile ; " but read that letter , and see what a different source ...
... perhaps it is not necessary that the heart should have anything to do with it . " " I am afraid I am too old - fashioned to dis- pense with it , " said the beauty with a smile ; " but read that letter , and see what a different source ...
Strona 19
... Perhaps I may say that is the case , too , when you return from Cheshire , " said the elder lady with a smile . " I am not afraid , " replied the lively girl.lessly kindled up her fire afresh , and then " Mine has withstood many much ...
... Perhaps I may say that is the case , too , when you return from Cheshire , " said the elder lady with a smile . " I am not afraid , " replied the lively girl.lessly kindled up her fire afresh , and then " Mine has withstood many much ...
Strona 20
... perhaps ; rarer still , " said Uncle Ned . " Nonsense ! " said his mother rather impa- tiently ; " why do you keep playing upon every word I say in that manner , Ned ? It is a very bad trick you have . " " My dear mother , " returned ...
... perhaps ; rarer still , " said Uncle Ned . " Nonsense ! " said his mother rather impa- tiently ; " why do you keep playing upon every word I say in that manner , Ned ? It is a very bad trick you have . " " My dear mother , " returned ...
Strona 22
... perhaps I may give this Fanny Elss- ler to some other little girl , " rejoined the aunt . " Tell Aunt Mary , " said Caroline , as she stroked down her little girl's golden locks , " that you like nothing so well , in this bad weather ...
... perhaps I may give this Fanny Elss- ler to some other little girl , " rejoined the aunt . " Tell Aunt Mary , " said Caroline , as she stroked down her little girl's golden locks , " that you like nothing so well , in this bad weather ...
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 236 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how?
Strona 238 - Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Strona 242 - Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Strona 238 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist...
Strona 226 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring. Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Strona 239 - Tis less of earth than heaven. Her every tone is music's own, Like those of morning birds, And something more than melody Dwells ever in her words; The coinage of her heart are they, And from her lips each flows As one may see the burden'd bee Forth issue from the rose.
Strona 241 - Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses ; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home ? Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other...
Strona 242 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Strona 239 - I know, I know I should not see The season's glorious show, Nor would its brightness shine for me, Nor its wild music flow ; But if, around my place of sleep, The friends I love should come to weep, They might not haste to go. Soft airs, and song, and light and bloom Should keep them lingering by my tomb.
Strona 236 - And called her good as fair, For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true, For her heart was cold to all but gold And the rich came not to woo — But honoured well are charms to sell If priests the selling do.