A Wonderful Woman: A Novel (Google eBook)

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G. W. Carleton & Company, Publishers., 1873 - English fiction - 544 pages
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Page 86 - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. "This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ;* But she shall bloom in winter snow, Ere we two meet again.
Page 281 - We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books, what is knowledge but grieving ? He may live without hope, what is hope but deceiving ? He may live without love, what is passion but pining ? But where is the man that can live without dining ? XX.
Page 335 - you have your wish, there are your Saxon foes! " The marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes! How fierce the look these exiles wear, who're wont to be so gay, The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day The treaty broken, ere the ink wherewith 'twas writ could dry, Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their women's parting cry, Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their country overthrown, Each looks as if revenge for all were staked on him alone....
Page 336 - Like lions leaping at a fold, when mad with hunger's pang, Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang; Bright was their steel, 'tis bloody now, their guns are filled with gore; Through shattered ranks and severed files and trampled flags they tore. The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, staggered, fled; The green hillside is matted close with dying and with dead. Across the plain and far away passed on that hideous wrack, While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon...
Page 146 - Among bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), " O, come ye in peace here or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar...
Page 336 - Their bayonets, the breakers' foam; like rocks, the men behind! One volley- crashes from their line, when, through the surging smoke, With empty guns clutched in their hands, the headlong Irish broke. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzza! " Revenge ! remember Limerick ! dash down the...
Page 31 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who fears to put it to the touch, To win or lose it all.
Page 336 - Like lions leaping at a fold when mad with hunger's pang Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang; Bright was their steel : 'tis bloody now, their guns are filled with gore; Through shattered ranks and severed files and trampled flags they tore.
Page 537 - In the spring a fuller crimson comes upon the robin's breast; In the spring the wanton lapwing gets himself another crest; In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Page 546 - The Habits of Good Society : A Handbook of Etiquette for Ladies and Gentlemen. With Thoughts, Hints, and Anecdotes concerning Social Observances, nice Points of Taste and Good Manners, and the Art of making One's-self Agreeable.

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