The Duke: A Novel, 1. kötet

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83. oldal - And he went forth — alone ! not one of all The many whom he loved, nor she whose name Was woven in the fibres of the heart Breaking within him now, to come and speak Comfort unto him. Yea — he went his way, Sick, and heart-broken, and alone — to die ! For God...
165. oldal - Nothing can be more imposing than the magnificence of English park scenery. Vast lawns that extend like sheets of vivid green, with here and there clumps of gigantic trees, heaping up rich piles of foliage : the solemn pomp of groves and woodland glades, with the deer, trooping in silent herds across them...
34. oldal - He prayed for Israel; and his voice went up Strongly and fervently. He prayed for those Whose love had been his shield; and his deep tones Grew tremulous. But, oh! for Absalom — For his estranged, misguided Absalom — The proud, bright being, who had burst away, In all his princely beauty, to defy The heart that...
107. oldal - O ye saints of His : and give thanks unto Him for a remembrance of His holiness. For His wrath endureth but the twinkling of an eye, and in His pleasure is life : heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
1. oldal - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
74. oldal - If I climb up into -heaven, thou art there ; if I go down to hell, thou art there also. 8 If I take the wings of the morning, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea ; 9 Even there also shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
34. oldal - Oh! when the heart is full, when bitter thoughts Come crowding thickly up for utterance, And the poor common words of courtesy Are such a very mockery, how much The bursting heart may pour itself in prayer...
151. oldal - A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
196. oldal - THE boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm — A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though childlike form.

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