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afternoon amusement Ann's antimacassar anxious anyhow armchair arms baby Bannister Bannister's Birches Farm Boy's Caledon cheek child CHRISTINA ROSSETTI cold comfort Corsham Street crumpets dear delight Donald Donnington door drawing-room dress Druid Elmhurst eyes face fancy father feeling felt friends girl gone gray horse hand Harkaway Harry Beresford hassock head heart horse knew lady laugh leave letter light little bit little Susie London look Margaret Beresford marriage married matter Memnon memory mind minute Miss Wilmot morning mother music-hall never night notice old squire once perhaps Polly Polly's poor little portmanteau Postham pretty Primrose Quicksilver realized remembered round seemed shoulder sight sisters smile sort squire's stood sure Susie's sweet talking tell thing Thomas Bannister thought tion told Tom's took turned voice wedding wife window wonder words young
Page 233 - Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn; Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Page 263 - As, in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him...
Page 292 - But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.
Page 200 - A hand that can be clasp'd no more Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.
Page 275 - OFT, in the stilly night, Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me ; The smiles, the tears, Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimmed and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken...
Page 112 - Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is, When time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives.
Page 132 - The dusky night rides down the sky And ushers in the morn : The hounds all join in glorious cry, The huntsman winds his horn: And a hunting we will go.
Page 240 - And, when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and precious thoughts, That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.
Page 121 - THIS is the place. Stand still, my steed, Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy Past The forms that once have been.