Saint Pauls, Zväzok 10Virtue and Company, 1872 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 87.
Strana 13
... mother and sisters , I suppose , just like our men . " " It is the strangest thing in the world that we can think of killing them , " said Septimius . " Human life is so precious . " Just as they were passing the cottage , a halt was ...
... mother and sisters , I suppose , just like our men . " " It is the strangest thing in the world that we can think of killing them , " said Septimius . " Human life is so precious . " Just as they were passing the cottage , a halt was ...
Strana 14
... mother and a sweetheart , the handsome young officer , " murmured Rose pityingly to herself . Septimius went into his house , and sat in his study for some hours , in that unpleasant state of feeling which a man of brooding thought is ...
... mother and a sweetheart , the handsome young officer , " murmured Rose pityingly to herself . Septimius went into his house , and sat in his study for some hours , in that unpleasant state of feeling which a man of brooding thought is ...
Strana 17
... mother earth - the mother of both you and me — so we are brothers ; and this may be a brotherly act , though it does not look so , nor feel so . Ah ! that was a twinge indeed ! " " Good God ! " exclaimed Septimius . " I had no thought ...
... mother earth - the mother of both you and me — so we are brothers ; and this may be a brotherly act , though it does not look so , nor feel so . Ah ! that was a twinge indeed ! " " Good God ! " exclaimed Septimius . " I had no thought ...
Strana 19
... mother at bed - time ; contrite , pleading , yet trusting . So it continued for a few minutes ; then there was a sudden start and struggle , as if he were striving to rise ; his eyes met those of Septimius with a wild , troubled gaze ...
... mother at bed - time ; contrite , pleading , yet trusting . So it continued for a few minutes ; then there was a sudden start and struggle , as if he were striving to rise ; his eyes met those of Septimius with a wild , troubled gaze ...
Strana 53
... mother - of - pearl . Have you seen nothing lovable yet ? If you are superstitious you will find every prospect haunted . There are serpents in all the waters , with sharp teeth and backs like saws , and there are mermaids on the sea ...
... mother - of - pearl . Have you seen nothing lovable yet ? If you are superstitious you will find every prospect haunted . There are serpents in all the waters , with sharp teeth and backs like saws , and there are mermaids on the sea ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
Alfred de Musset Alfred Tennyson answered asked Aunt Keziah beautiful better boat Brand Brandon cabin called Charles Dickens child colour Crayshaw criticism Cunnle Shark Curlew dark death deck delightful Demetrius dinner doctor dress drink drysalter England English eyes face feel felt flowers George Sand girl grave hair hand head heard heart human JEAN INGELOW Judas Iscariot kind knew lady laughed light live look Lord Houghton marriage mean mind mother NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE nature never night once pale perhaps person phrenologist poem poet poetry poor Portsoaken Puritan R. H. Hutton replied Rose sail seemed Septimius Sibyl smile Snap snob sort soul spirit story strange suppose sure talk tell thee things thou thought told took Uncle Rollin wild woman women wonderful word young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 483 - Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: "Pipe a song about a Lamb!' So I piped with merry cheer. 'Piper, pipe that song again;
Strana 484 - Piper, sit thee down and write In a book that all may read.' So he vanish'd from my sight; And I pluck'da hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, And I stain'd the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.
Strana 287 - 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.
Strana 370 - I listened for a word, — But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. He came not, — no, he came not, — The night came on alone, — The little stars sat one by one, Each on his golden throne ; The evening air passed by my cheek, The leaves above were stirred ; But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Strana 297 - Let no man dream but that I love thee still Perchance, and so thou purify thy soul, And so thou lean on our fair father Christ, Hereafter in that world where all are pure We two may meet before high God, and thou Wilt spring to me, and claim me thine, and know I am thine husband— not a smaller soul, Nor Lancelot, nor another. Leave me that, I charge thee, my last hope. Now must I hence. Thro...
Strana 321 - The world is too much with us: late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
Strana 296 - To see thee, laying there thy golden head, My pride in happier summers, at my feet. The wrath which forced my thoughts on that fierce law, The doom of treason and the flaming death, (When first I learnt thee hidden here) is past. The pang — which while I...
Strana 138 - I do not write resentfully or angrily: for I know how all these things have worked together to make me what I am : but I never afterwards forgot, I never shall forget, I never can forget, that my mother was warm for my being sent back.
Strana 296 - Yet think not that I come to urge thy crimes, I did not come to curse thee, Guinevere, I, whose vast pity almost makes me die To see thee, laying there thy golden head, My pride in happier summers, at my feet.
Strana 295 - Accordingly, such a language, arising out of repeated experience and regular feelings, is a more permanent, and a far more philosophical language, than that which is frequently substituted for it by Poets, who think that they are conferring honour upon themselves and their art, in proportion as they separate themselves from the sympathies of men, and indulge in arbitrary and capricious habits of expression, in order to furnish food for fickle tastes, and fickle appetites, of their own creation...