Johnny Ludlow: Sixth Series

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Macmillan, 1901 - 398 páginas
 

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Página 256 - Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright: at the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.
Página 292 - Not, that he may not here Taste of the cheer : But as birds drink, and straight lift up their head ; So must he sip, and think Of better drink He may attain to, after he is dead.
Página 292 - HARK, how the birds do sing, And woods do ring. All creatures have their joy, and man hath his. Yet if we rightly measure, Man's joy and pleasure Rather hereafter, than in present, is. To this life things of sense Make their pretence : In th...
Página 47 - Meaning what?" I asked, for he came to a pause. "Well, sir, meaning, I suppose, that she might sometime lay violent hands upon herself, or upon another. I can't help thinking that something must have put her into one of these rages with Jane Cross, and that she pushed or flung the poor girl over the stairs." Looking back, rapidly recalling signs and tokens, I thought it might have been so. Owen interrupted me. "I shall come across her sometime, Mr. Johnny. These are things that don't hide themselves...
Página 399 - A book by Mrs. Wood is sure to be a good one, and no one who opens "The Master of Greylands ' in anticipation of an intellectual treat will be disappointed. The keen analysis of character, and the admirable management of the plot, alike attest the clever novelist.
Página 156 - It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure...
Página 157 - And never never dared to sip, The sweets that hung upon the lip Of faithless Emma. For though from rosy dawn of day I rove along, and anxious stray Till night with curtain dark descends, And day no more its...
Página 1 - To be sure. All of us. Why not? We'll start to-morrow." "Oh dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Todhetley, dismay in her mild tone. "Children and all?" "Children and all: and take Hannah to see them," said the Squire. "You don't count, Joe: you will be off elsewhere." "We could never be ready," said the Mater, looking the image of perplexity. "To-morrow's Friday. Besides, there would be no time to write to Mary." "Write to her!" cried the Squire, turning sharply on his heel as he paced the room in his nankeen...
Página 157 - To deck her cheek, what flower she'd choose, The lily, or the blushing rose. I wish I ne'er had seen her eye, Ne'er seen her cheek of doubtful dye, And never, never dar'd to sip, The sweets that hung upon the lip Of faithless Emma.

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