Novels: Alice. 1902

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G. Routledge & sons limited, 1902
 

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Pàgina 407 - Would have mourn'd longer, — married with my uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month, Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married.
Pàgina 57 - The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
Pàgina 13 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
Pàgina 129 - La santé de l'âme n'est pas plus assurée que celle du corps ; et quoique l'on paraisse éloigné des passions, on n'est pas moins en danger de s'y laisser emporter que de tomber malade quand on se porte bien.
Pàgina 468 - Douce had been so anxious to get into his clutches, had not sufficed to stave off the rain, — but a great part of it sufficed to procure competence for himself. How inferior in wit, in acuteness, in stratagem, was Douce to Vargrave; and yet Douce had gulled him like a child! Well said the shrewd small philosopher of France, " On peut etre plus fin qu'un autre, mais pas plus fin que tous les autres.
Pàgina 334 - I have great hope in that: for in her youth There is a prone and speechless dialect Such as moves men; beside, she hath prosperous art When she will play with reason and discourse, And well she can persuade.
Pàgina 341 - A pleasing land of drowsy-head it was, Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye ; And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, For ever flushing round a summer sky...
Pàgina 388 - Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, The fatal shadows that walk by us still.
Pàgina 157 - Here stillness, height, and solemn shade Invite, and contemplation aid: Here nymphs from hollow oaks relate The dark decrees and will of fate, And dreams beneath the spreading beech Inspire, and docile fancy teach; While soft as breezy breath of wind, Impulses rustle through the mind: Here Dryads, scorning Phoebus
Pàgina 34 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying, none were blest.

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