The Pearl: Or, Affection's GiftThomas T. Ash, 1832 |
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Sida 22
... . " Theodore reluctantly consented , and they put the leaves and boughs over the grave again . He now asked his sister if she felt tired , and she answered , “ Yes . ” " Then , Gertrude , let me take you home 22 E THE PASTOR'S CHILDREN .
... . " Theodore reluctantly consented , and they put the leaves and boughs over the grave again . He now asked his sister if she felt tired , and she answered , “ Yes . ” " Then , Gertrude , let me take you home 22 E THE PASTOR'S CHILDREN .
Sida 63
... felt that she was utterly alone in the world , without a solitary rela- tive to whom she might cling . When at the end of two years Miss L urged her to lay aside the mourning which she had assumed for her mother , she declined , saying ...
... felt that she was utterly alone in the world , without a solitary rela- tive to whom she might cling . When at the end of two years Miss L urged her to lay aside the mourning which she had assumed for her mother , she declined , saying ...
Sida 64
... felt the most unbounded gratitude , and expressed it with the affectionate warmth which belonged to her character . She was not long in forming for herself a plan of conduct , and she declared to Miss L that she would use every effort ...
... felt the most unbounded gratitude , and expressed it with the affectionate warmth which belonged to her character . She was not long in forming for herself a plan of conduct , and she declared to Miss L that she would use every effort ...
Sida 65
... our companions had gone home ; in two days I was to leave school , and in about a fortnight Kathleen would set out for Mrs. F's . I felt sad at the E thought of parting with my friend , and taking my KATHLEEN O'NEILL 65.
... our companions had gone home ; in two days I was to leave school , and in about a fortnight Kathleen would set out for Mrs. F's . I felt sad at the E thought of parting with my friend , and taking my KATHLEEN O'NEILL 65.
Sida 72
... felt the delight of being reunited to a beloved friend , after even a tempo- rary separation , to imagine the happiness of the father and daughter ; it was mingled with a touch of sadness from the remembrance of one whom they had ...
... felt the delight of being reunited to a beloved friend , after even a tempo- rary separation , to imagine the happiness of the father and daughter ; it was mingled with a touch of sadness from the remembrance of one whom they had ...
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ague Alice Allison Anthony appearance apple sauce arms asked aunt beautiful blessing brother child Clara Colonel O'Neill daughter dear dear Mary delight desk dress exclaimed eyes father fear feel felt fond friends gave gentle Gertrude give go home grandfather grandmother hand happy Harriet hear heard heart Herculaneum hope Indians Jamestown Jane Kathleen kind learning leave LENOX LIBRARY letter look mamma Maria Mary Massasoit Medway midshipman Milbank mince pie mind Miss Gordon Miss L Miss Lyman morning mother never night o'er O'Neill papa parents parlour party passed pleasure Pompeii received replied roast goose Rose Sarah Sarah Parker seated seemed sister smile soon spirit Squanto sure sweet sweet child tears tell theatre Theodore thing thought Tildens told uncle walk whilst wish write young lady
Populära avsnitt
Sida 72 - Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.
Sida 200 - Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Sida 173 - I'll be a king, except a crown, For that they wo'nt allow, And I'll find out what the tariff is, That puzzles me so now. MOTHER. My son! my son ! the cares of state Are thorns upon the breast, That ever pierce the good man's heart, And rob him of his rest. The great and gay to him appear As trifling as the dust, For he knows how little they are worth — How faithless is their trust.
Sida 206 - We fail ? But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep, (Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey...
Sida 175 - The cottage hearth invade. CAROLINE. , I will be gay and courtly, And dance away the hours; Music, and sport, and joy shall dwell Beneath my fairy bowers ; No heart shall ache with sadness Within my laughing hall, But the note of joy and gladness Re-echo to my call. MOTHER.
Sida 173 - With my broadsword in my hand, And hear the cannon rattle, And the music all so grand. MOTHER. My son ! my son ! what if that sword Should strike a noble heart, And bid some loving father From his little ones depart! What comfort would your waving plumes And brilliant dress bestow, When you thought upon his widow's tears, And her orphans
Sida 31 - The Lord giveth, and the Lord ' taketh away ; blessed be the name of the Lord.
Sida 39 - Fresh from the favourite tree, Nuts in their brown and husky fold, Dearest, I spread for thee. " Year after year I tread Thus to thy low retreat ; But now the snow-hairs mark my head, And age enchains my feet.
Sida 174 - ... the cares of state Are thorns upon the breast, That ever pierce the good man's heart, And rob him of his rest ; The great and gay to him appear As trifling as the dust, For he knows how little they are worth, How faithless is their trust. LOUISA. I mean to be a cottage girl, And sit behind a rill, And morn and eve my pitcher there With purest water fill ; And I'll train a lovely woodbine, Around my cottage door, And welcome to my winter hearth The wandering and the poor. MOTHER. Louisa, dear,...
Sida 41 - When pierced with agony I weep, Dost render no reply. Daughter ! my youthful pride, The idol of my eye, Why didst thou leave thy mother's side Beneath these sands to lie ? Long o'er the hopeless grave Where her lost darling slept, Invoking gods that could not save That Pagan mourner wept : Oh ! for some voice of power To sooth her bursting sighs, " There is a resurrection hour ! Thy daughter's dust shall rise...