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admiration Algernon Anna Fleetwood Arabella Archer arrival asked Augusta aunt Barbadoes beautiful blush Bolton Park breakfast bride bright bury Captain Manners Charles Stafford charm codicil cousin Crystal Palace dear Eleanor dear Maude delight dinner Drayton dread duet Elea Evans eyes face fear feelings Ferris friends give happy hear heart hope husband idea Julia Julia Clifford kind Lady Thorn Lady Thornbury leave letter look Lord Thorn Lord Thornbury luncheon marriage married Maude felt Maude's meet mind Miss Anna Miss Bolton Miss Feme Miss Ferne Miss Fleetwood Miss Hastings morning never niece Norrington Oak Cottage party passed poor promise Rectory remember replied Maude ride scarcely seemed sigh Sir Andrew Bolton Sir Cranford smile soon sure tears tell thing Thornbury's thought tion took uncle usual wife wish Woodside Manor write Wyncroft young
Page 117 - Look not mournfully into the Past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the Present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy Future, without fear, and with a manly heart.
Page 24 - O my cousin, shallow-hearted ! O my Amy, mine no more! O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren, barren shore!
Page 47 - In glowing health, with boundless wealth, But sickening of a vague disease, You know so ill to deal with time, You needs must play such pranks as these.
Page 265 - Each in his hidden sphere of joy or woe Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart, Our eyes see all around in gloom or glow — Hues of their own, fresh borrow'd from the heart.
Page 1 - Gorgeous flowerets in the sunlight shining, Blossoms flaunting in the eye of day, Tremulous leaves, with soft and silver lining, Buds that open only to decay ; Brilliant hopes, all woven in gorgeous tissues, Flaunting gaily in the golden light ; Large desires, with most uncertain issues, Tender wishes, blossoming at night ! These in flowers and men are more than seeming; Workings are they of the self-same powers, Which the Poet, in no idle dreaming, Seeth in himself and in the flowers.
Page 194 - She buried her face in her hands, as if to shut out the remembrance of her own passionate words.