Eva; or, The bridal spectre [by mrs. W. Johnson].G. Virtue, 1830 - 309 |
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Strona 3
... windows were nearly obscured by the fallen creeper and jassamine , which now hung loose and neglected ; and the gloom ... window ; he described him as having horns on his head , and eyes like balls of fire , and de- clared he saw flames ...
... windows were nearly obscured by the fallen creeper and jassamine , which now hung loose and neglected ; and the gloom ... window ; he described him as having horns on his head , and eyes like balls of fire , and de- clared he saw flames ...
Strona 19
... window , he beheld Edmund walking in a slow and melancholy manner , followed only by Hugh . " Where is your father , and what is become of Gil- bert , " demanded Sir Eldred . " Gilbert quitted my ser- vice , without giving me notice ...
... window , he beheld Edmund walking in a slow and melancholy manner , followed only by Hugh . " Where is your father , and what is become of Gil- bert , " demanded Sir Eldred . " Gilbert quitted my ser- vice , without giving me notice ...
Strona 29
... windows being obscured by the fallen creeper and jassamine , rendered it too dark to distinguish what the room might contain . The rain , that had long threatened , now began to pour down , and lightning , in quick successive flashes ...
... windows being obscured by the fallen creeper and jassamine , rendered it too dark to distinguish what the room might contain . The rain , that had long threatened , now began to pour down , and lightning , in quick successive flashes ...
Strona 30
... windows are not so much darkened there by the fallen plants ; and by the time we have looked about us there , I trust it will be sufficiently light for us to see here . " " Oh ! holy Father , would to Heaven I was endowed with thy ...
... windows are not so much darkened there by the fallen plants ; and by the time we have looked about us there , I trust it will be sufficiently light for us to see here . " " Oh ! holy Father , would to Heaven I was endowed with thy ...
Strona 31
... window was placed a number of philosophical apparatus , and on a table near them lay a large volume , written in strange characters . Matthias shuddered while he gazed on these things ;, then retreated some paces backwards , and stood ...
... window was placed a number of philosophical apparatus , and on a table near them lay a large volume , written in strange characters . Matthias shuddered while he gazed on these things ;, then retreated some paces backwards , and stood ...
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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!