Eva; or, The bridal spectre [by mrs. W. Johnson].G. Virtue, 1830 - 309 |
Z wnętrza książki
Wyniki 1 - 5 z 33
Strona 3
... belch from his nostrils , whilst he roared in a terrible voice , and warned him no more to come on his ground . Be this as it might , no one in the B. 2 BRIDAL SPECTRE . 3 longer heard in Engleton House. The same unaltered ...
... belch from his nostrils , whilst he roared in a terrible voice , and warned him no more to come on his ground . Be this as it might , no one in the B. 2 BRIDAL SPECTRE . 3 longer heard in Engleton House. The same unaltered ...
Strona 13
... whilst Sir Eldred was speaking , that Agnes was the guilty but penitent culprit , for tears might be seen trickling from her eyes , and her cheeks were suffused with the richest crimson ; but Sir Eldred knew Agnes too well to suppose ...
... whilst Sir Eldred was speaking , that Agnes was the guilty but penitent culprit , for tears might be seen trickling from her eyes , and her cheeks were suffused with the richest crimson ; but Sir Eldred knew Agnes too well to suppose ...
Strona 16
... , Sir Roland Seymour , with a solemn in- junction never to part with it ; and a prediction hath gone forth , that whilst the house of Seymour possessed i .. that ring , they should flourish ; and that when 16 EVA OR , THE.
... , Sir Roland Seymour , with a solemn in- junction never to part with it ; and a prediction hath gone forth , that whilst the house of Seymour possessed i .. that ring , they should flourish ; and that when 16 EVA OR , THE.
Strona 35
... loser by her compliance . " Edmund knit his brow whilst Sir Eldred spoke , and fell into one of those deep musings , which , with him , were not unusual . Sir F 2 BRIDAL SPECTRE . 35 corpse was borne to Engleton House, amidst tears and ...
... loser by her compliance . " Edmund knit his brow whilst Sir Eldred spoke , and fell into one of those deep musings , which , with him , were not unusual . Sir F 2 BRIDAL SPECTRE . 35 corpse was borne to Engleton House, amidst tears and ...
Strona 37
... whilst in London , were suited to his inclina- tion , and ever since his return , he had hankered after them . But these thoughts he carefully concealed from his uncle ; and much grieved and surprised was Sir Eldred , when informed of ...
... whilst in London , were suited to his inclina- tion , and ever since his return , he had hankered after them . But these thoughts he carefully concealed from his uncle ; and much grieved and surprised was Sir Eldred , when informed of ...
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Adrian Agnes Barnedo beheld Belmont House blood bosom Bouverie caused chamber chapel child corpse cottage countenance cried dark daughter death Deloraine Castle door dreadful east wing endeavoured Engleton House enquired entered Evadne eyes fate Father Athanasius fear garden grief grieved hand hastened hath heard heart Heaven Holy Land hour Jabeth Jesse knew Lady Deloraine Lady Mildmay Lady Roselma ladyship Laura leave lest Lincolnshire little Eva looked Mandeville marriage Matthias mind monk Athanasius Monteith morning mother Nabal never night pale passed person poor Rachel Ramsbottom recollected replied Sir ruffian Saint Peter seemed sell this house servant Sir Edmund Sir Edward Seymour Sir Eldred Sir James Sir Marmaduke Sir Ralph Sir Raymond Somerton soon sorrow spectre spirits stood tears thee thou thought uncle vault Vipond voice walked west wing whilst window wish woman words young
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 5 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Strona 202 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! Ah, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.
Strona 74 - Where the great Sun begins his state, Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight, While the ploughman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strona 211 - And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast : There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow, There the first roses of the year shall blow; While angels with their silver wings o'ershade The ground, now sacred by thy reliques made.
Strona 48 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Strona 59 - Guilt is the source of sorrow ! 'tis the fiend, The avenging fiend, that follows us behind, With whips and stings. The blest know none of this, But rest in everlasting peace of mind, And find the height of all their heaven is goodness.
Strona 74 - Through the high wood echoing shrill. Sometime walking, not unseen, By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great sun begins his state...
Strona 26 - ... destroy the births of women, and the increase of cattle ; they blast the corn on the ground, the grapes of the vineyard, the fruits of the trees, the grass and herbs of the field.
Strona 108 - But see, the setting Sun Puts on a milder countenance, and skirts The undulated clouds, that cross his way, With glory visible. His axle cools, And his broad disk, though fervent, not intense, Foretells the near approach of matron night. Ye fair, retreat ! Your drooping flowers need Wholesome refreshment. Down the hedge-row path We hasten home, and only slack our speed To gaze a moment at th' accustom'd gap, That all so unexpectedly presents The clear cerulean prospect down the vale.
Strona 284 - I have turn'd o'er the catalogue of human woes Which sting the heart of man and find none equal. It is the hydra of calamities, The sevenfold death; the jealous are the damn'd. Oh jealousy, each other passion's calm 80 To thee, thou conflagration of the soul! Thou king of torments! Thou grand counterpoise For all the transports beauty can inspire!