My life, by the author of 'Stories of Waterloo'. |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 81
Side xv
... ; the identity was proven , and the sobriquet indubitably belonged to my wor- thy friend , the wild - looking gentleman . " Good God ! " I exclaimed , " how stupid and unpardonable must this intrusion of mine ap- pear ! " INTRODUCTION . XV.
... ; the identity was proven , and the sobriquet indubitably belonged to my wor- thy friend , the wild - looking gentleman . " Good God ! " I exclaimed , " how stupid and unpardonable must this intrusion of mine ap- pear ! " INTRODUCTION . XV.
Side 3
... exclaimed my father . " Run for Doctor Donovan . Take the short way across the Mall , and be back again like lightning . " " Why then , by my own soul , I wont , " re- turned he of the red - plush breeches . “ Me crass the Mall , and ...
... exclaimed my father . " Run for Doctor Donovan . Take the short way across the Mall , and be back again like lightning . " " Why then , by my own soul , I wont , " re- turned he of the red - plush breeches . “ Me crass the Mall , and ...
Side 13
... exclaimed the judge , who had overheard the sanguinary de- claration- " Away with him at once ; and be- fore twelve strikes , let me see him strapped up ! " Immediately the captors seized the prisoner , and the black drummer resumed his ...
... exclaimed the judge , who had overheard the sanguinary de- claration- " Away with him at once ; and be- fore twelve strikes , let me see him strapped up ! " Immediately the captors seized the prisoner , and the black drummer resumed his ...
Side 18
... exclaimed , rubbing his eyes anew ; but the branch that " bore the weight of Antony " was bare and unadorned as any of its kindred boughs . Pat Rafferty , albeit as stout a sentinel " as ever called stand to a true man , " was no hero ...
... exclaimed , rubbing his eyes anew ; but the branch that " bore the weight of Antony " was bare and unadorned as any of its kindred boughs . Pat Rafferty , albeit as stout a sentinel " as ever called stand to a true man , " was no hero ...
Side 19
... exclaimed the gallant sergeant . " Jokes ! By this book " -and here he press- ed the bottle reverently to his lips- " there's not a rag of him on the tree , more than I'm there . " " Mona mondiaoul ! " said the sergeant , " we're ruined ...
... exclaimed the gallant sergeant . " Jokes ! By this book " -and here he press- ed the bottle reverently to his lips- " there's not a rag of him on the tree , more than I'm there . " " Mona mondiaoul ! " said the sergeant , " we're ruined ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
alarm Annette appeared Arrah Aylmer beautiful bless Brussels Cæsar Blake Captain Blake carriage Casey Castle Blake Castlebar chamber Clifden coach colonel commander companion cousin crossed curricle cynic Daly daugh daughter dear Dear Phoebe Denis O'Brien Donovan door Dorset Street drove Ellen Emily exclaimed eyes fair fancy father favour fear fellow fortune Foxford French gallant Galway Genappe gentleman girl grandfather hand Harriette Harrison heard heart Heaven honour horse hour hurried Jack the Devil Jack's kinsman lady leave letter light little colonel looked Lord Loughrea madam Manus Blake ment Miss mistress morning mother murder never night O'Moore passed person Phoebe pistol poor regiment replied retired returned royalists ruffians ruin scene scoundrel Sedley servant short smiled soldier soubrette Stainsbury stopped stranger street tell tête-à-tête thought tion to-morrow told took town turned voice wild wretched young Zounds
Populære avsnitt
Side 154 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Side 70 - Let it be so! thy truth then be thy dower! For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, The mysteries of Hecate and the night; By all the operation of the orbs From whom we do exist and cease to be...
Side 117 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms - the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Side 240 - Oh! too convincing — dangerously dear — In woman's eye the unanswerable tear ! That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue — at once her spear and shield: Avoid it — Virtue ebbs and Wisdom errs, Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers ! What lost a world, and hade a hero fly ? The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye.
Side 192 - You stole her from me ; like a thief you stole her, At dead of night ! that cursed hour you chose To rifle me of all my heart held dear. May all your joys in her prove false, like mine ! A sterile fortune and a barren bed Attend you both : continual discord make Your days and nights bitter, and grievous still ! May the hard hand of a vexatious need Oppress and grind...
Side 104 - Oh, have you e'er heard of Kate Kearney? She lives on the banks of Killarney; From the glance of her eye, Shun danger and fly, For fatal's the glance of Kate Kearney.
Side 51 - And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Side 197 - Thine evil deeds are writ in gore, Nor written thus in vain — Thy triumphs tell of fame no more, Or deepen every stain : If thou hadst died as honour dies, Some new Napoleon might arise, To shame the world again — But who would soar the solar height, To set in such a starless night ? Weigh'd in the balance, hero dust Is vile as vulgar clay; Thy scales, Mortality!
Side 81 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Side 55 - It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, That cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person, twelve yards off, or so ; A gentlemanly distance, not too near, If you have got a former friend for foe ; But after being fired at once or twice, The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice.