Arthur, or, A knight of our own day, by the author of 'Alice Godolphin'.Chapman & Hall, 1876 |
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Arthur, Or, a Knight of Our Own Day, by the Author of 'Alice Godolphin' Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2020 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Alda answer Arling Grange Arthur asked beautiful better Black Prince blue eyes Brighton Brownie calm cerned cheeks cheerful cold colour comfort dark Daylesford dead silence dear dear father drawing-room dress Elizabeth exclaimed face fair father feel felt fever Fletcher flush gazing gentle girl glanced hair hand happy harriers heard heart honourable hope horse husband Ida's Keighley kind knew Lady Ather Lady Atherstone Lady Laura leave look Lord Trevor married mind minutes Miss Helmore morning mournful natural nervous never Norman nursing once passed perhaps poor pretty Prince's Club quiet quietly racter Rectory replied ride rose Rüger scarcely seemed sitting smile soon speak stood strange sunny surely sweet table d'hôte tell thing thought tion trembling turned uncon voice walked weary wife window wish wonder words young
Populære avsnitt
Side 112 - Ah my God, What might I not have made of thy fair world, Had I but loved thy highest creature here ? It was my duty to have loved the highest: It surely was my profit had I known : It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.
Side 9 - Of manners gentle, of affections mild ; In wit, a man ; simplicity, a child ; With native humour temp'ring virtuous rage, Form'd to delight at once and lash the age ; Above temptation, in a low estate ; And uncorrupted...
Side 89 - See — oh never more, my comrades, Shall we see that falcon eye Redden with its inward lightning, As the hour of fight drew nigh ! Never shall we hear the voice that, Clearer than the trumpet's call, Bade us strike for king and country, Bade...
Side 271 - The— knights— are— dust.— Their— good— swords— rust.— Their— souls— are— with— the— saints —we— trust.
Side 263 - Why shouldst thou fear the beautiful angel, Death, Who waits thee at the portals of the skies, Ready to kiss away thy struggling breath, Ready with gentle hand to close thine eyes?
Side 272 - Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire, Must win their way through blood and fire. The writhings of a wounded heart Are fiercer than a foeman's dart. Oft in life's stillest shade reclining, In desolation unrepining, Without a hope on earth to find A mirror in an answering mind, Meek souls there are, who little dream Their daily strife an angel's theme, Or that the rod they take so calm Shall prove in heaven a martyr's palm.
Side 130 - ... which common consent builds upon these facts. There is, of course, no such thing as chance ; this world is driven with far too tight a rein to permit of anything whatsoever falling out in a way properly fortuitous. But it cannot be denied that there are persons with whom everything goes well, and other persons with whom everything goes ill. There are people who invariably win at what are called games of chance. There are people who invariably lose...
Side 218 - Goods among us. I dont deny them the liberty of trade till the Congress is over. Whatever we agree upon then I mean most firmly to Stand to it.