Chambers's Pocket Miscellany, Volume 3W. and R. Chambers, 1854 |
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Page 6
... Denbigh , the occupier of Bauvale House , a handsome place about five miles east of Sidmouth , and something more ... Denbigh , and was now pending . Mr Denbigh was understood to be a person of large fortune , had qualified , or was ...
... Denbigh , the occupier of Bauvale House , a handsome place about five miles east of Sidmouth , and something more ... Denbigh , and was now pending . Mr Denbigh was understood to be a person of large fortune , had qualified , or was ...
Page 8
... Denbigh , who'- There was a fragment of looking - glass jammed between three nails on the wall in front of Hartley as he stood . As the word Denbigh passed my lips , he became instantly bolt upright , involuntarily or mechanically , as ...
... Denbigh , who'- There was a fragment of looking - glass jammed between three nails on the wall in front of Hartley as he stood . As the word Denbigh passed my lips , he became instantly bolt upright , involuntarily or mechanically , as ...
Page 9
... Denbigh at home ; and having sent in my name , I was at once admitted . Here , again , was a very different man from what I expected . Mr Denbigh was a shortish , sour , eager - eyed man of some fifty years of age , already stooping in ...
... Denbigh at home ; and having sent in my name , I was at once admitted . Here , again , was a very different man from what I expected . Mr Denbigh was a shortish , sour , eager - eyed man of some fifty years of age , already stooping in ...
Page 10
... Denbigh , slightly colouring ; but I do not much interest myself - not of late years , at least in these things . ' Odd ! thought I. Here is a country squire con- foundedly out of his latitude in the country ! I was , I perceived ...
... Denbigh , slightly colouring ; but I do not much interest myself - not of late years , at least in these things . ' Odd ! thought I. Here is a country squire con- foundedly out of his latitude in the country ! I was , I perceived ...
Page 12
... Denbigh's mansion , appeared upon the scene . He was the first to speak : You have been missed , Mr Richard , ' he said sternly and abruptly , and must instantly come in . ' ' Yes - yes , ' stammered the young man : the same terrified ...
... Denbigh's mansion , appeared upon the scene . He was the first to speak : You have been missed , Mr Richard , ' he said sternly and abruptly , and must instantly come in . ' ' Yes - yes , ' stammered the young man : the same terrified ...
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afterwards amongst animal appeared Archbishop of Cambray beautiful became Bellarmine Ben Lomond bones Brunot Cæsar called cave child circumstances course daughter death Denbigh Dumbarton Earl of Stirling Edinburgh elephant endeavour entered eyes Farney father favour feelings feet fortune friends Fulk de Villaret gentleman George Dale give Glenmorriston hand Hartley heard heart honour Humphreys husband John kind king knew lady Lavalette length lived Llyr loch look Louvois loved Madame de Maintenon Malloch manner matter Maxwell miles mind morning mother never night once Paget party passed Patrick Grant perhaps person poor possessed present Prince prison received remarkable respectable returned Rowardennan scene Scotland seemed seen shew side soon thought tion Tom Davis took town Troelle walk Wandering Jew whole wife woman wonder young
Fréquemment cités
Page 70 - Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast, As down she knelt for Heaven's grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint...
Page 71 - Ode to a Nightingale My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk : 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Page 72 - Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy ! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.
Page 71 - Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair ; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
Page 72 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird ! No hungry generations tread thee down ; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown : Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn ; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
Page 70 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device, Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth's deep-damask'd wings; And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings, A shielded scutcheon blush'd with blood of queens and kings.
Page 72 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild...
Page 73 - ... they are flushed all over with the rich lights of fancy; and so coloured and bestrewn with the flowers of poetry, that even while perplexed and bewildered in their labyrinths, it is impossible to resist the intoxication of their sweetness, or to shut our hearts to the enchantments they so lavishly present.
Page 73 - As she is famed to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — do I wake or sleep?
Page 72 - Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs; Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.