Our valley, by the author of 'The children of Seeligsberg'.1877 |
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Strona 16
... seen Farmer Clive's new buildings ? " Lynch was a village belonging to Sir Guy , right away across the moor ; but I had been there with father in the gig the last week , and so I pricked up my ears to hear what followed . " Can you tell ...
... seen Farmer Clive's new buildings ? " Lynch was a village belonging to Sir Guy , right away across the moor ; but I had been there with father in the gig the last week , and so I pricked up my ears to hear what followed . " Can you tell ...
Strona 18
... seen before in church , at one end of the Hall - servants ' pew , but who was amazingly condescending and gracious to me , escorting me through great rooms and corridors , along which I passed with awe and wonder , similar , I thought ...
... seen before in church , at one end of the Hall - servants ' pew , but who was amazingly condescending and gracious to me , escorting me through great rooms and corridors , along which I passed with awe and wonder , similar , I thought ...
Strona 22
... seen it all from her rest up yonder , for I often think the veil that parts our dear dead from us is thinner than men dream , and they at times are very near to us Or perhaps some kind angel has left his place before the Throne of God ...
... seen it all from her rest up yonder , for I often think the veil that parts our dear dead from us is thinner than men dream , and they at times are very near to us Or perhaps some kind angel has left his place before the Throne of God ...
Strona 28
... seen . She wore a blue skirt and white pinafore , and the hat , that went swinging backwards and forwards as she sang , was white too , with a wreath of pink rose - buds . How she sang too ! opening her tiny mouth and pouring out her ...
... seen . She wore a blue skirt and white pinafore , and the hat , that went swinging backwards and forwards as she sang , was white too , with a wreath of pink rose - buds . How she sang too ! opening her tiny mouth and pouring out her ...
Strona 50
... seen Harold go that morning . " Poor Laurence , " she said softly ; " it is very hard upon you , certainly , but I daresay Harold I will soon get tired of the horses and stupid Uncle Chris . " It was a hope from which I did not glean ...
... seen Harold go that morning . " Poor Laurence , " she said softly ; " it is very hard upon you , certainly , but I daresay Harold I will soon get tired of the horses and stupid Uncle Chris . " It was a hope from which I did not glean ...
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ash trees asked better blue bright Cecily Cloth boards Clytsall colour Crown 8vo dance dear Dick Dick Winter door Exmoor eyes face Fairlie Farmer Falls Farmer Malsbury's father Fcap feel felt Fortune Mavor Fortune's fuchsias girl glad gone grey Grindley hand happy happy days Harold hear heard heart High Coombe hill-side hills HISTORY OF INDIA horse Isham Judith knew laddie lady laugh Laurence Laurie leave LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS live looked Lynch married master mill mind Miss Sabin moor morning never night old place parlour poor pretty remember ride Rockhead round Runcorn's seemed seen sight Silas Silscote Sir Edmond Sir Guy smile stood strange surprise talking Taunton tell tenant thee there's things thought told toned paper turned Uncle Christopher valley voice waiting walked waves white pony wife wished wonder words Wyncourt young
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 156 - No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown / Responds unto his own.
Strona 85 - I SAW from the beach, when the morning was shining, A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on ; I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining, The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
Strona 143 - The path of duty was the way to glory: He that walks it, only thirsting For the right, and learns to deaden Love of self, before his journey closes, He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting 150 Into glossy purples, which outredden All voluptuous garden-roses.
Strona 211 - O well for the sailor lad. That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
Strona 182 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Strona 85 - Ah, such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the springtide of joy we have known! Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us And leaves us at eve on the bleak shore alone.
Strona 254 - EVENINGS AT THE MICROSCOPE ; or, Researches among the Minuter Organs and Forms of Animal Life. By P. H. GOSSE, Esq., FRS A new edition, revised and annotated. Post 8vo Cloth boards 4 o FAN'S SILKEN STRING. By ANNETTE LYSTER, author of " Northwind and Sunshine,
Strona 23 - I loved the brimming wave that swam Thro' quiet meadows round the mill, The sleepy pool above the dam, The pool beneath it never still, The meal-sacks on the whiten 'd floor, The dark round of the dripping wheel, The very air about the door Made misty with the floating meal.
Strona 210 - I sing. (O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South, Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee. *O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each, That bright and fierce and fickle is the South, And dark and true and tender is the North. 'O...
Strona 3 - The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light!