The Matchmaker: A Novel, Volum 3Colburn, 1842 |
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Side 22
... face of earnest thought ; there was something more than melancholy in poor Zelie's - there was a fierce mental struggle . She suddenly clasped her hands , half raised herself with an air of pride and firm resolve . A tinge of colour ...
... face of earnest thought ; there was something more than melancholy in poor Zelie's - there was a fierce mental struggle . She suddenly clasped her hands , half raised herself with an air of pride and firm resolve . A tinge of colour ...
Side 25
... face and form with sorrowful surprise , he said , grasping her burning hand , " Oh ! how very ill you must have been ! " the contrast of his tearful glance , and the cold gaze of one she loved too well , struck her . She murmured ...
... face and form with sorrowful surprise , he said , grasping her burning hand , " Oh ! how very ill you must have been ! " the contrast of his tearful glance , and the cold gaze of one she loved too well , struck her . She murmured ...
Side 42
... not to the evil spirit tempting you to forsake ; listen to the good angel , urging you to cling to and to comfort him . Sister ! " and Ellen sank on her knees by Augusta's side , and , hiding her tearful face 42 THE MATCHMAKER .
... not to the evil spirit tempting you to forsake ; listen to the good angel , urging you to cling to and to comfort him . Sister ! " and Ellen sank on her knees by Augusta's side , and , hiding her tearful face 42 THE MATCHMAKER .
Side 43
... face in her lap , sobbed , " Sister , this blow will not overwhelm him , unless you forsake him . He loves he cares for nothing but you ! Promise you will be to him all love can make a woman , when Misery would claim him she loves ...
... face in her lap , sobbed , " Sister , this blow will not overwhelm him , unless you forsake him . He loves he cares for nothing but you ! Promise you will be to him all love can make a woman , when Misery would claim him she loves ...
Side 71
... face hidden in her hands , her frame convulsed with sobs . The matchmaker saw that a moment of deep feeling was no time for worldly counsel . She noiselessly quitted the apartment ; yet the daughter's evident struggles , while they af ...
... face hidden in her hands , her frame convulsed with sobs . The matchmaker saw that a moment of deep feeling was no time for worldly counsel . She noiselessly quitted the apartment ; yet the daughter's evident struggles , while they af ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
affection Alphonse Annie Augusta Babie beautiful bless brae bright brother canna Capricorn carriage CHAPTER cheeks cheer Chester cold colour comfort Covent Garden daughters dear Donald dreadful dress earnest elegant Ellen drew Ellen Lindsay exile eyes fancy fate father Fatima feel Fitzcribb fortitude fortune George Cruikshank girl glod Gripeall Grunter Gubbs hand happy heart Heeland History of Philosophy hope Horace Smith Julian Lady lassie letter Lindsay's lips London looked lord madam marriage match matchmaker mind Miss Tibby Moss Grove Rectory mother never old Lindsay once pale peace perhaps Philosophy of History Poor Grizzy poverty racter Reverend Gregory rose ruined Screech seemed Sir E. L. Sir Peter Riskwell sister smile sobbed Socinian strange sweet tears thing thought toil trembled ture uncle Villeneuve vols wealth weep wife window Winterthur wish woman wretched young Zelie
Populære avsnitt
Side 68 - And, when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring, To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
Side 169 - SEE, WINTER comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train ; Vapours and Clouds and Storms. Be these my theme, These ! that exalt the soul to solemn thought, And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms, Congenial horrors, hail ! with frequent foot...
Side 29 - Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of Ills to come; Nor Care, beyond to-day! Yet see, how all around them wait The Ministers of human fate; And black Misfortune's baleful Train!
Side 39 - HEAVEN eternal fountain of our feelings! 'tis here I trace thee and this is thy divinity which stirs within me not that, in some sad and sickening moments, my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction mere pomp of words!
Side 1 - gainst the thunderstroke; And from beneath his boughs were seen to sally The dappled foresters — as day awoke, The branching stag swept down with all his herd, To quaff a brook which murmur'd like a bird.
Side 125 - O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; But, for their virtue...
Side 39 - Eternal fountain of our feelings! 'tis here I trace thee and this is thy "divinity which stirs within me" not, that in some sad and sickening moments, "my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction" mere pomp of words! but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself all comes from thee, great great SENSORIUM of the world! which vibrates, if a hair of our heads but...
Side 45 - ... tis an easy matter to pick up sticks enough from any thicket where it has strayed, to make a fire to offer it up with.
Side 138 - I won't trouble you any more.' Then how am I to help you?' 'I didn't ask your help.' Then why come to me?' "Why, indeed!' I echoed. 'Will you let me pass?' 'Not until you tell me where you are going and what you mean to do.' 'Can't you guess?' I cried. And for many seconds we stood staring in each other's eyes. 'Have you got the pluck?' said he, breaking the spell in a tone so cynical that it brought my last drop of blood to the boil. 'You shall see,' said I, as I stepped back and whipped the pistol...
Side 21 - Adieu, poor luckless maiden ! Imbibe the oil and wine which the compassion of a stranger, as he journeyeth on his way, now pours into thy wounds — the Being who has twice bruised thee can only bind them up for ever.