The Hyacinth, Or, Affection's GiftHenry F. Anners, 1850 |
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Page 8
... turned his head ; And the orphan met a brother Whom he thought long since was dead . Thus it is when friends have left us , And the heart grows faint and chill ; When Hope's blessings seem denied us , There's a hand that guides us still ...
... turned his head ; And the orphan met a brother Whom he thought long since was dead . Thus it is when friends have left us , And the heart grows faint and chill ; When Hope's blessings seem denied us , There's a hand that guides us still ...
Page 20
... turning round upon his seat , " it is the custom at this time of night . " The sentry advanced and opened the door . " Whom have we here ? " said he . " A woman , " was the reply . " Whence come you ? " he rejoined . " From the ...
... turning round upon his seat , " it is the custom at this time of night . " The sentry advanced and opened the door . " Whom have we here ? " said he . " A woman , " was the reply . " Whence come you ? " he rejoined . " From the ...
Page 26
... turned from them , the officers gathered up the fragments in order to seal them up , and afterwards discover , if possible , to whom they had been written . But the letter had no address , and she smiled at their useless caution . At ...
... turned from them , the officers gathered up the fragments in order to seal them up , and afterwards discover , if possible , to whom they had been written . But the letter had no address , and she smiled at their useless caution . At ...
Page 29
... turning round and addressing them . may " We arrest you in the name of the law . " Her feelings , at this moment , it is impossible to describe . You must imagine them . You think how bitter a shock it must have been to find herself a ...
... turning round and addressing them . may " We arrest you in the name of the law . " Her feelings , at this moment , it is impossible to describe . You must imagine them . You think how bitter a shock it must have been to find herself a ...
Page 59
... turning pale . " Oh ! John , you will take care of us - won't you ? " said little Sally , who was clinging to his knees . " Hush ! hush ! " A loud knock was heard . " How I do wish father was at home , " said Sally . Again the knock was ...
... turning pale . " Oh ! John , you will take care of us - won't you ? " said little Sally , who was clinging to his knees . " Hush ! hush ! " A loud knock was heard . " How I do wish father was at home , " said Sally . Again the knock was ...
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Common terms and phrases
afraid Antoninus Pius beautiful bosom breath bright brother Bruin called child Cola cottage cruel dark DATE PALM David Jones dear delight door Edward Clinton Ellen Emma exclaimed eyes father fear feel flowers Frank Ludlow frock garden gingerbread girl governess Grey Squirrels hand happy hear heard heart Henry hermit hour Isabel Isabel Neville Jessy John Juccio Katy laugh leave light little George look Louisa Ludlow Madame Roland martial music master melan mind Monsieur N Monsieur Roland morning mother never night o'er once Orvieto passed Peggy Phebe picturesque pleasure poor prison replied round Sally seemed sister smile soldiers soon sorrow stood supper sweet Swiss Cottage tall black tell thee thing thou thought tion told took tree village voice walked whispered wife wild window woman woods word young youth
Popular passages
Page 42 - And these had the weather in their favour ; for it is an ill wind that blows no one any good ; and the rain that rains on the just and unjust seems to have a preference for the latter.
Page 32 - If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Page 97 - HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill ! Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death, Untied unto the world by care Of public fame or private breath; Who envies none that chance doth raise, Nor vice...
Page 215 - I drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to the number of about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I carried occasionally a large form of letters in each hand, up and down stairs, while the rest employed both hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by this and many other examples, that the' American aquatic,' as they used to call me, was stronger than those who drank porter.
Page 216 - My example prevailed with several of them to renounce their abominable practice of bread and cheese with beer ; and they procured, like me, from a neighbouring house, a good basin of warm gruel, in which was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which did not cost more than a pint of beer, namely, three halfpence, and at the same time preserved the head clearer.
Page 196 - I NEVER cast a flower away, The gift of one who cared for me — A little flower — a faded flower — But it was done reluctantly. I never looked a last adieu To things familiar, but my heart Shrank with a feeling almost pain, Even from their lifelessness to part. I never spoke the word
Page 199 - The main stems of these leaves are from eight to twelve feet long, firm, shining and tapering, and each embraces, at its insertion, a considerable part of the trunk. The trunk of the palm is, in fact, made up of the remains of leaves, the ends of which are prominent just under the crown, but more obliterated towards the root of the tree.
Page 170 - When the dinner-hour arrived, the father and son prepared to leave the place, the former inquiring by the way, whether his son had observed any one looking hard at him as he passed along. " That I did," answered the lad, " but only one, and he laughed as he went past us. I do not know his name, but he is strongly marked with the small-pox, and lives somewhere near the Frati Minori."
Page 96 - Tis only when the dust is thrown Thy lifeless bosom o'er, We muse upon thy kindness shown — And wish we'd loved thee more ! u — 2 Tis only when thy lips are cold, We mourn with late regret, 'Mid myriad memories of old, The days for ever set ! And not an act...
Page 176 - ... called the Strid, from a feat often exercised by persons of more agility than prudence, who stride from brink to brink, regardless of the destruction which awaits a faltering step. Such...