Village belles [by A. Manning] 3 vols. By the author of 'Mary Powell'.

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Page 54 - As may express them best ; though what if earth Be but the shadow of heaven, and things therein Each to other like, more than on earth is thought...
Page 27 - Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, Forth issuing on a summer's morn to breathe Among the pleasant villages and farms Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight, The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound...
Page 173 - Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake, But blustering care could never tempest make, Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us, Saving of fountains that glide by us.
Page 107 - Happiness is the natural design of all the world ; and everything we see done, is meant in order to attain it. My imagination places it in friendship, by friendship I mean an entire communication of thoughts, wishes, interests, and pleasures, being undivided ; a mutual esteem, which naturally carries with it a pleasing sweetness of conversation, and terminates in the desire of making one or another happy...
Page 133 - Is all the counsel that we two have shared, The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent When we have chid the hasty-footed time For parting us — Oh! and is all forgot?
Page 333 - The bridal is over, the guests are all gone, The bride's only sister sits weeping alone ; The wreath of white roses is torn from her brow, And the heart of the bridemaid is desolate now.
Page 319 - OFT has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark, With eyes that hardly served at most To guard their master 'gainst a post : Yet round the world the blade has been, To see whatever could be seen. Returning from his...
Page 45 - Behold the picture! Is it like ? Like whom ? The things that mount the rostrum with a skip, And then skip down again ; pronounce a text ; Cry — hem ; and reading what they never wrote Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene...
Page 105 - Female of sex it seems — That so bedecked, ornate, and gay, Comes this way sailing Like a stately ship Of Tarsus, bound for the isles Of Javan or Gadire, With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails filled, and streamers waving...
Page 108 - Besides, you can give me something in return," and, turning to Pauline, " Will you be so kind as to give me a glass of water ? No, nothing else, a glass of cold water ; I am dying of thirst." "And I," said Bettina, laughing, while Pauline ran to fetch the water, " I am dying of something else — of hunger, to tell the truth. Monsieur le Cure — I know that I am going to be dreadfully intrusive ; I see your cloth is laid...

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