The Hyacinth, Or, Affection's GiftHenry F. Anners, 1849 |
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Adela Adolph Agnes Antonio Moro asked astonished Bayreuth Bazaar beautiful benefactress bestow birth-day brooms Caroline cherries child court cried daugh daughter dear delighted Denmark Diorama doll duty Emily England exclaimed eyes father fear feel felt flowers forget-me-not Frankfort-on-Maine fruit garden girl give guinea Hampton Court hand happy HARVARD COLLEGE heard heart heaven Helen Hilary honour hope Hornberg Isabel Jessie Justina kind King knew labour ladies lamb Lawrence lived look Louisa Madame Ehrenhold Mahlbourg mamma Mary minister Minna moche morning mother never nosegay nurse overseer Oxford street papa pine-apple pleasure poor praise pread prince promise proom rence replied returned Rochester Rose Selwyn shepherd shillings sister smile soon Sophy sorrow sovereigns Sweep tankard tears tell thee thing thou thought took tree tutor village walk Watch wife William wish woman young
Popular passages
Page 107 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
Page 18 - There was a little stubborn dame Whom no authority could tame, Restive by long indulgence grown, No will she minded but her own: At trifles oft she'd scold and fret, Then in a corner take a seat, And sourly moping all the day, Disdain alike to work or play.
Page 43 - HAST thou been in the woods with the honey-bee? Hast thou been with the lamb in the pastures free ? With the hare through the copses and dingles wild ? With the butterfly over the heath, fair child? Yes: the light fall of thy bounding feet Hath not startled the wren from her mossy seat: Yet hast thou ranged the green forest-dells And brought back a treasure of buds and bells. Thou know'st not the sweetness, by antique song Breathed o'er the names of that flowery throng ; The...
Page 172 - WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see ! What shall I render to my God For all his gifts to me ? Not more than others I deserve, Yet God has given me more ; For I have food while others starve, Or beg from door to door.
Page 19 - Tis very strange, I own, but true. Mamma observ'd the rising lass By stealth retiring to the glass, To practise little airs unseen, In the true genius of thirteen : On this a deep design she laid To tame the humour of the maid ; Contriving, like a prudent mother, To make one folly cure another. Upon the wall against...
Page 89 - For some bleak pittance e'er compell'd to roam ! Few friends to cheer him through his dangerous life, And none to aid him in the stormy strife : Companion of the sea and silent air, The lonely fisher thus must ever fare ; Without the comfort, hope, — with scarce a friend...
Page 44 - Midst the gold of the cowslip's perfumed cell ; And the scent, by the blossoming sweet-briars shed, And the beauty that bows the wood-hyacinth's head. Oh ! happy child, in thy fawn-like glee ! What is remembrance or thought to thee ? Fill thy bright locks with those gifts of spring, O'er thy green pathway their colours fling ; Bind them in chaplet and wild festoon — What if to droop and to perish soon ? Nature hath mines of such wealth — and thou Never wilt prize its delights as now...
Page 43 - ... wild? With the butterfly over the heath, fair child ? Yes: the light fall of thy bounding feet Hath not startled the wren from her mossy seat;. Yet hast thou ranged the green forest-dells, And brought back a treasure of buds and bells. Thou know'st not the sweetness, by antique song Breathed o'er the names of that flowery throng; The woodbine, the primrose, the violet dim...
Page 18 - And sharper remedies applied ; But both were vain, for every course He took, still made her worse and worse. 'Tis strange to think how female wit So oft should make a lucky hit, When man, with all his high pretence To deeper judgment, sounder sense, Will err, and measures false pursue — 'Tis very strange I own, but true. Mamma...
Page 41 - YOUNG VINE, VAINLY AMBITIOUS OF INDEpendence, and fond of rambling at large, despised the alliance of a stately elm that grew near, and courted her embraces. Having risen to some small height without any kind of support, she shot forth her flimsy branches to a very uncommon and superfluous length; calling on her neighbour to take notice how little she wanted his assistance. "Poor infatuated shrub," replied the elm, "how inconsistent is thy conduct!