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Alice answered arms Arthur Arvon asked beauty began believe better bound brother Castle close cried dark door dream Duke Edward entered escape exclaimed eyes face fear feel fell fight gates Geoffrey George Cruikshank Gerstenberg give gone Greaves guard hand happiness hear heard heart heaven Henri Hervé de Léon honour hope knew Lady Jane laughed leave light listened looked Lovell matter mean mind moment Montfort morning Nantes nearly never night Norval once passed perhaps poor present prisoner replied round scene seemed seen side Sir Hervé sleep smile speak spoke sprang standing started stood stopped story struggling suddenly suppose sure talk tell things thought told tone town turned uncle voice wait walked wished young
219. oldal - As thou art in desire ? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i
266. oldal - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — "The foe! They come! They come!
59. oldal - Strange friend, past, present, and to be ; Loved deeplier, darklier understood ; Behold, I dream a dream of good, And mingle all the world with thee.
278. oldal - After these two noble fruits of friendship, (peace in the affections, and support of the judgment,) followeth the last fruit ; which is like the pomegranate, full of many kernels ; I mean aid and bearing a part in all actions and occasions. Here the best way to represent to life the manifold use of friendship, is to cast and see how many things there are which a man cannot do himself; and then it will appear that it was a sparing speech of the ancients, to say, that a friend is another himself; for...
48. oldal - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, — Till death like sleep might steal on me...