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Books Books 1 - 10 of 60 on Of distraction passed away ; Not a sign of further grieving Stirred my soul that....
" Of distraction passed away ; Not a sign of further grieving Stirred my soul that awful day. Paled, at length, the sweet sun setting ; Sunk to peace the twilight breeze : Summer dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. Then his eyes... "
Wuthering Heights - Page 74
by Emily Brontė - 1905 - 333 pages
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The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 9

American literature - 1846
...strangely dreary, Clouded, evnn as they would weep. " But they wept not — but they changed notNever moved, and never closed ; Troubled still, and still...heard no sighing — So I knew that he was dead." And now loquitur Acton Bell : " Yes, thou art gone ! and never more Tby sunny smile shall gladden me...
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The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 41

1857
...dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. " Then his eyes began to wenry, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...Troubled still, and still they ranged not, Wandered not, not yet reposed. • " So I knew that he was dying — Stooped and raised his languid head ; Felt no...
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Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell

Anne Brontė - 1846
...dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. Then his eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...and heard no sighing, So I knew that he was dead. ELLIS. SONG. THE linnet in the rocky dells, The moor-lark in the air, The bee among the heather bells,...
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The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 9

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1846
...dews fell softly, welting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. 11 Then his eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...would weep. " But they wept not — but they changed notNever moved, and never closed ; Troubled still, and still they ranged not — Wandered not, nor...
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The Christian Remembrancer, Volume 21

Christianity - 1851
...Summer dews fell softly, wetting Glen and glade, and silent trees. Then his eyes began to weary, Weigh'd beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely dreary, Clouded, even as they would weep. Never moved, and never closed; Troubled still, and still they ranged not— Eut they wept not, but...
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The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 41

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1857
...dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. " Thru his eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...Troubled still, and still they ranged not, Wandered not, not yet reposed. • " So I knew that he was dying — Stooped and raised liis languid head ; Felt...
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Beautiful poetry, selected by the ed. of The Critic

Beautiful poetry - 1859
...dews fell softly wetting Glen, and glaile, and silent trees. Then his eyes began to weary, VVeigh'd beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...dreary, Clouded, even as they would weep. But they wept not—but they changed not— Never moved, and never closed; Troubled still, and still they ranged...
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The Professor

1870 - 436 pages
...dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. Then his eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...they ranged not — Wandered not, nor yet reposed 1 So I knew that he was dying — Stooped, and raised his languid head ; Felt no breath, and heard...
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The Professor

Charlotte Brontė - 1872 - 436 pages
...dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees. Then his eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely...never closed ; Troubled still, and still they ranged notWandered not, nor yet reposed ! So I knew that he was dying — Stooped, and raised his languid...
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A Garland of Poetry

Ballads, English - 1873 - 198 pages
...eyes began to weary, Weighed beneath a mortal sleep ; And their orbs grew strangely dreary, Clonded, even as they would weep. But they wept not, but they...and heard no sighing, So I knew that he was dead. Haworth. EMILY'JANE BRONTE. SPIRIT VOYAGING: A SONG OP HASCHISH. soft wind bloweth, the blythe stream...
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