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Seite 59 - That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements and feelings and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow strain I can do myself like any now going ; but the exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting, from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to me.
Seite 275 - Kneel undisturbed, fair saint ! Pour out your praise or plaint Meekly and duly ; I will not enter there, To sully your pure prayer With thoughts unruly. But suffer me to pace Round the forbidden place, Lingering a minute Like outcast spirits who wait And see through Heaven's gate Angels within it.
Seite 276 - Ah me ! how quick the days are flitting ! I mind me of a time that's gone, When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting, In this same place — but not alone. A fair young form was nestled near me, A dear, dear face looked fondly up, And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me — There?s no one now to share my cup.
Seite 34 - We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears , Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died.
Seite 178 - She was tumbled early, by accident or design, into a spacious closet of good old English reading, without much selection or prohibition, and browsed at will upon that fair and wholesome pasturage. Had I twenty girls, they should be brought up exactly in this fashion.
Seite 277 - Long, long through the hours, and the night, and the chimes, Here we talk of old books, and old friends, and old times ; As we sit in a fog made of rich Latakie This chamber is pleasant to you, friend, and me. But of all the cheap treasures that garnish my nest, There's one that I love and I cherish the best : For the finest of couches that's padded with hair I never would change thee, my cane-bottom'd chair.
Seite 241 - Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears. The young lambs are bleating in the meadows...
Seite 275 - ALTHOUGH I enter not, Yet round about the spot Ofttimes I hover ; And near the sacred gate, With longing eyes I wait, Expectant of her.
Seite 179 - I wish the good old times would come again," she said, " when we were not quite so rich. I do not mean that I want to be poor ; but there was a middle state" — so she was pleased to ramble on — " in which I am sure we were a great deal happier. A purchase is but a purchase, now that you have money enough and to spare. Formerly it used tor be a triumph.