Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial Virginia

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1898 - Virginia - 378 pages
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Page 222 - the green leaves from the tree; O gentle death, when wilt thou come ? For of my life I am weary." " Margery again ? " said Sir Charles, rising. " Yes," said Patricia, with a troubled voice. The voice began the stanza again: — "Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blow,
Page 16 - Trader, planter, magistrate, member of the council of state, soldier, author on occasion, and fine gentleman all rolled into one, after the fashion of the times; Cavalier of
Page 319 - I should be now in London, at Whitehall, at some masque or pageant perhaps. I should be all clad in brocade and jewels, not like this —" She touched her ragged gown as she spoke, then burst into strange laughter. " But God disposes ! And you — "
Page 5 - from the fields of maize and tobacco, the faint clink of iron from the smithy, the wash and lap of the water, the drone of bees from the hives beneath the eaves of the house. Great bronze butterflies fluttered in the sunshine, brilliant humming-birds plunged deep into the long trumpet-flowers ; from the topmost bough of a locust, heavy with bloom, came the liquid trill of a
Page 319 - bonfires which did not warm, flaming pyres which were never consumed. Morning and evening a shroud of chill, white mist fell upon them, or they would have mocked the sunrise and the sunset. Along the summit of low hills ran a comb of
Page 320 - two trembling hands. He took them, helped her to her feet, and before releasing them, bent and touched them with his lips. Then side by side and in silence they traveled on through the halcyon calm of the world around them.
Page 93 - in her look, ev'ry charm in her eye. Whilst oppression, corruption, vile slav'ry and fear At his wished for return never more shall appear. Your glasses charge
Page 319 - and blossoming that put the spring to shame, a sea of splendor with here and there a dark-green isle of cedar or of pine. Day after day saw the same calm blue sky, the same blue haze, the same
Page 319 - scarlet of the sumach, leaf and berry; underfoot were crimson vines like trails and splashes of blood; into the streams from which the wanderers stooped to drink, fell the gold of the sycamore. From the hills they looked down
Page 16 - half of the young gentlemen of the counties of York and Gloucester were ready to draw rapier on the other

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