What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Algiers answered asked baronet beauty Bracken Hollow bright Captain O'Donnell Castleford chasseur dark daughter dead dear door dress Earl of Ruysland eyes face father Gaston Dantree ghost Ginevra girl glance gone governess grave gray hair hand handsome Harman Harriet Harman hate heard heart heiress Henry Otis Herncastle's honor hour Katherine Dangerfield Kathie King's Oak knew Lady Cecil Clive Lady Dangerfield Lanty laughed light lips live looked Lord Ruysland Major Frankland marry Menadarva Miss Dangerfield Miss Herncastle Morecambe morning never night once Orleans pale papa poor Queenie Redmond O'Donnell Reine Blanche Rose Sir Arthur Tregenna Sir John Sir Peter Dangerfield smile sort spoke stood suppose talk tall tell thing thought to-morrow to-night told took turned Vavasor voice walked wedding wife window woman wonder word young lady
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.