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appeared asked began believe better called changed CHAPTER character close companion danger death door doubt Edith Leslie escape Euston face Fanny father feeling felt followed four gain gave give half hand head hear heard heart hope horse hour human keep kind knew known lady learned least leave length Leslie less light live look lost mean meet Meredith mind minutes Miss Miss Leslie moment morning Morton nature never night once passed person Primrose reached remained remember rest returned rocks rose Rosny seated seemed seen side soon speak Speyer spirit stand stood strong suffering suppose tell thing thought took train turned Vinal walked window wish women young
Seite 135 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Seite 317 - We twain have met like ships upon the sea, Who hold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet ; • One little hour ! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.
Seite 367 - Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content : 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
Seite 62 - But when he came, though pale and wan, He looked so great and high, So noble was his manly front, So calm his steadfast eye ; — The rabble rout forbore to shout, And each man held his breath, For well they knew the hero's soul Was face to face with death.
Seite 22 - Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes; Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That, hush'd in grim repose, expects his evening prey.
Seite 60 - I'll never love thee more. Like Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone, My thoughts shall evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, That puts it not unto the touch, To win or lose it all.
Seite 393 - Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now.
Seite 62 - God ! that ghastly gibbet ! how dismal 'tis to see The great, tall, spectral skeleton, the ladder and the tree ! Hark ! hark ! it is the clash of arms, the bells begin to toll — He is coming ! he is coming ! God's mercy on his soul...