Friendship's OfferingLewis & Sampson, 1852 |
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Common terms and phrases
abatis Alanjuez Alice Angelina Antonio appeared arms Arsinöe aunt battle battle of Waterloo beauty BELISARIUS bosom bowl brave bright brother Castellon Catalina Charles cheek child Conrad conscripts cottage countenance cried dark dear death Don Alonzo Donna Margarita door duenna duty Ellen Ernest exclaimed face fair father feeling felt flowers Forster Freyre garden gaze girl green hand happiness Harz head heart heaven honour Isleworth King knew kugelplaz Lady Mary Lancey look Luisa madam Madrid maiden marriage master mother mountain Mowbray never night Norman old lady once pale passed Philip poor racter Reichart replied returned ride rose Roundhead San Isidro SARTAIN scene seemed side sister skittles Sleepless Eye smile soldier spirit stood Stormy Petrel strange stranger Susan Wheeler sweet tears thee Theresa thou thought turned vale of Chepstowe voice Wag-water ween widow wish woman young youth
Popular passages
Page 329 - WHAT is that, Mother ? The lark, my child ! The morn has but just looked out, and smiled ; When he starts, from his humble, grassy nest, And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, To warble it out, in his Maker's ear : Ever my child, be thy morn's first lays, Tuned,' like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. What is that, Mother...
Page 330 - What is that, Mother ? — The dove, my son !— And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure, by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one's quick return: Ever, my son, be thou like the dove, In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. What is that, Mother?— The eagle, boy!— Proudly careering his course of joy : Firm, on his own mountain vigour relying, Breasting the dark storm, the...
Page 330 - What is that, Mother ? The swan, my love ! He is floating down, from his native grove ; No loved one, now, no nestling, nigh, He is floating down, by himself, to die; Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet the sweetest song, is the last, he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swanlike and sweet, it may waft thee home!
Page 329 - Ever, my child, be thy morn's first lays Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. "What is that, mother?" The dove, my son : And that low, sweet voice, like a widow's moan, Is flowing out from her gentle breast, Constant and pure by that lonely nest, As the wave is poured from some crystal urn, For her distant dear one's quick return. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove ; In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. "What is that, mother?
Page 330 - The swan, my love !He is floating down from his native grove ; No loved one now, no nestling nigh, He is floating down, by himself to die : Death darkens his eye, and unplumes his wings, Yet his sweetest song is the last he sings. Live so, my love, that when death shall come, Swan-like and sweet, it may waft thee home.
Page 51 - The fiddles, whose dismal scraping accorded ill with their accompaniments, might almost have been dispensed with, so completely were they drowned by yells and shrieks of frantic merriment, and so well was the time of the tune marked by the snapping of fingers and thumping of heels on the sanded floor of the kitchen. I scarcely know which expressed most surprise, my face, as I caught, over the shoulder of a tall white-headed old Bluegown (the fac-simile of Edie Ochiltree), a glimpse of the scene within,...
Page 184 - I believe that, as a matter of calculation, the man might be right, and that his costume was cheaper and more convenient ; but I am sure that I should have been against him, right or wrong ; the other dress was so pretty, so primitive, so neat, so becoming ; the little lasses looked like rose-buds in the midst of their leaves : besides, it was the old traditionary dress — the dress contrived and approved by Lady Lacy. Oh ! it should never have been changed, never ! Since there was so much contention...
Page 324 - Waterloo, he was conveyed, among the wounded, to a small farm-house, and found that his life was considered worth preserving by the English, among whom he now was; that when sufficiently recovered, he was put on board a small vessel bound for the West Indies ; that they were taken by Spanish pirates, and himself, with three others, put on shore on the coast of South America; that he had earned, by daily labour, a pittance that kept him from starving ; but he had still to contend with weakness and...
Page 308 - Conrad pointed to his disabled leg, and the lifeless boy that lay before him. He was, indeed, lifeless. The spirit had passed away, and the stiffness of death had succeeded to the last pressure of his brother's hand. "We can do nothing for him," said De Lancey; "he is gone. But I may save you," and, taking the soldier in his arms, he bore him to a place of safety, and laid him on the turf. " My brother! my poor Edward!" exclaimed Conrad, " must he be trampled under foot...
Page 179 - We've wandered mournfully to-day. My little sister she is pale, She is too tender and too young To bear the autumn's sullen gale, And all day long the child has sung. She was our mother's favourite child, Who loved her for her eyes of blue ; And she is delicate and mild, She cannot do what I can do. She never met her father's eyes, Although they were so like her own ; In some far distant sea he lies, A father to his child unknown.