Myrtis: With Other Etchings and SketchingsHarper, 1855 - 292 Seiten |
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Seite 5
... brow . Calm , serene , and like a habitant of a higher sphere , Marcus Aurelius entered . That philosophic emper- or , who , according to the creed of the Stoics , was never known to change countenance , either for grief or joy ...
... brow . Calm , serene , and like a habitant of a higher sphere , Marcus Aurelius entered . That philosophic emper- or , who , according to the creed of the Stoics , was never known to change countenance , either for grief or joy ...
Seite 7
... of her desecra- ted edifices had been rebuilt , and her privileges re- stored . Still the footstep of the Roman made but harsh echo among her shades . Though reinstated in her seat of honor , it was with a melancholy brow MYRTIS . 7.
... of her desecra- ted edifices had been rebuilt , and her privileges re- stored . Still the footstep of the Roman made but harsh echo among her shades . Though reinstated in her seat of honor , it was with a melancholy brow MYRTIS . 7.
Seite 8
... brow and a shuddering heart . On the hope held before her , she gazed like the pale planet , drooping from the recent deluge , remembering rather the bitterness of the wa- ters , than the promise on the prismed cloud , that she should ...
... brow and a shuddering heart . On the hope held before her , she gazed like the pale planet , drooping from the recent deluge , remembering rather the bitterness of the wa- ters , than the promise on the prismed cloud , that she should ...
Seite 14
... brow at finding herself address- ed by a fonder name than that of sister , and feeling that it awoke a true echo in her heart . The discoveries of that parting hour were price- less and indelible . Yet , to describe love - scenes is but ...
... brow at finding herself address- ed by a fonder name than that of sister , and feeling that it awoke a true echo in her heart . The discoveries of that parting hour were price- less and indelible . Yet , to describe love - scenes is but ...
Seite 19
... brow . One day he announced to her that he had obtained permission , though not without difficulty , that she should visit the cell of Proclus ; for age and sickness had been no protection against his being torn from his humble home ...
... brow . One day he announced to her that he had obtained permission , though not without difficulty , that she should visit the cell of Proclus ; for age and sickness had been no protection against his being torn from his humble home ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Ælius amid arms Athens babe beautiful birds blessed blood bosom bowed breath bright brother brow cheek cheer child Christian clasped cleave asunder colony comfort Commodus Connecticut countenance dark daughter dear dear Jane death deep dered duties dwelling earth emperor faith father fear feet flowers forest friends gazed grace gratitude grief habitation hand happiness hath head heard heart heaven honor hope husband Indian Jehoshaphat Jehu John Custis Lady Arabella larn lips listened lofty look maiden Malvina Marcellus Marcus Aurelius mind mingled Mohegan morning mother Mount Vernon murmur Myrtis never night noble Ontologon passed pathy peace Pequod Poland poor prayer Proclus proconsul Radzivil replied Rome Sassacus scarcely seemed sister slumbering smile sorrow soul spirit spoke stood sweet Talmage Tarbox tears tender thee thou thought tion Tituba tones Ulrica Uncas Vistula voice walk wife words young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 63 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee; for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Seite 21 - Fear made her devils, and weak hope her gods; Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust, Whose attributes were rage, revenge, or lust; Such as the souls of cowards might conceive, And, form'd like tyrants, tyrants would believe.
Seite 268 - Dear Chloe, this is wisdom's part ; This is that incense of the heart Whose fragrance smells to heaven.
Seite 289 - Every log-cabin sends forth what it can spare for this work of pity and of sorrow. They cross each other's track. Incessantly they interrogate and reply, but in vain. The lost are not found ! In her mournful dwelling, the mother sat motionless. Her infant was upon her lap. The strong duty to succor its helplessness, grappled with the might of grief, and prevailed. Her eyes were riveted upon its brow. No sound passed her white lips. Pitying women, from distant habitations, gathered around and wept...
Seite 78 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Seite 54 - There's not a flower on all the hills : the frost is on the pane: I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again: I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high: I long to see a flower so before the day I die. The building rook 'ill caw from the windy tall elm-tree, And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea, And the swallow 'ill come back again with summer o'er the wave But I shall lie alone, mother, within the mouldering grave.
Seite 155 - You are a liar ; I am no more a witch than you are a wizard ; and if you take away my life, God will give you blood to drink.
Seite 288 - But it is so dark, so dark !" Rousing herself with difficulty, she unties her apron, and spreads it over the head of the child, to protect it from the driving snow; she pillows the cold cheek on her breast, and grasps more firmly the benumbed hand by which she had so faithfully led her, through all their terrible pilgrimage. There they are ! One moves not. The other keeps vigil, feebly giving utterance, at intervals, to a low, suffocating spasm from a throat dried with hunger. Once more she leans...
Seite 102 - We, the rightful lords of yore, Are the rightful lords no more ; Like the silver mist we fail, Like the red leaves in the gale, — Fail like shadows, when the dawning Waves the bright flag of the morning.