The romance of the forest, by the authoress of 'A Sicilian romance'.1820 |
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Страница 6
... door , the two soldiers went out into the yard of the inn to watch the windows of the apartment . With an eager hand he unclosed the door ; but Adeline hastened not to meet him , for she had fainted almost at the beginning of the ...
... door , the two soldiers went out into the yard of the inn to watch the windows of the apartment . With an eager hand he unclosed the door ; but Adeline hastened not to meet him , for she had fainted almost at the beginning of the ...
Страница 30
... door opened , and the Marquis followed by the officers and several ser- vants entered . Fury flashed from his eyes as they glanced upon Theodore , who hung over Adeline with a look of fearful solicitude - Seize that traitor , said he ...
... door opened , and the Marquis followed by the officers and several ser- vants entered . Fury flashed from his eyes as they glanced upon Theodore , who hung over Adeline with a look of fearful solicitude - Seize that traitor , said he ...
Страница 31
... door of the room : but he seized her hand before she could reach it , and regardless of her shrieks , bringing her back to her chair , was going to speak , when voices were heard in the passage , and immediately the landlord and his ...
... door of the room : but he seized her hand before she could reach it , and regardless of her shrieks , bringing her back to her chair , was going to speak , when voices were heard in the passage , and immediately the landlord and his ...
Страница 32
... door , and again called for help ; but her trem- bling hands were powerless , and every person in the house seemed to be too much engaged even to hear her . A loud shriek now pierced her ears , and amidst the tumult that followed she ...
... door , and again called for help ; but her trem- bling hands were powerless , and every person in the house seemed to be too much engaged even to hear her . A loud shriek now pierced her ears , and amidst the tumult that followed she ...
Страница 33
... door ; but the hostess , pushing her aside , locked it , and went down stairs . Adeline's distress now entirely overcame her , and she sat motionless and scarcely conscious that she existed , till roused by a sound of footsteps near the ...
... door ; but the hostess , pushing her aside , locked it , and went down stairs . Adeline's distress now entirely overcame her , and she sat motionless and scarcely conscious that she existed , till roused by a sound of footsteps near the ...
Чести термини и фразе
abbey abbey of St Adeline Adeline's affection Amand anguish anxiety appeared attended beautiful believe carriage cerning chamber chateau circumstances Clara conduct conversation countenance D'Aunoy danger dear death delight despair distant distress dore dreadful drew Du Bosse emotions endeavoured entreated escape expressed eyes father fear grief hand happiness heard heart hope hostess hour immediately inquired knew lake Languedoc leave Leloncourt length looked Lord Louis Luc's lute Ma'mselle Madame La Luc Madame La Motte Marquis de Montalt Marquis's melancholy mind Montpellier morning neral night o'er occasioned pain Paris passed passion perceived Peter physician pity pleasure present prison quired quis quit the forest racter received recollection recovered replied returned Savoy scarcely scene scenery seemed shade sigh silence smile soon speak stranger sublime suffer sunk surgeon sweet tears tence tender terror Theo Theodore thither thought tion trembling Verneuil village voice wish wound XLIV
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Страница 43 - I had a thing to say, — but let it go. The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton and too full of gawds To give me audience. If the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, Sound on into the drowsy race of night...
Страница 2 - E'en have you seen, bathed in the morning dew, The budding rose, its infant bloom display ; When first its virgin tints unfold to view, It shrinks, and scarcely trusts the blaze of day. "So soft, so delicate, so sweet she came, Youth's damask glow, just dawning on her cheek, I gazed, I sigh'd, I caught the tender flame, Felt the fond pang, and droop'd with passion weak...
Страница 125 - With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, Where night and desolation ever frown. Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down ; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrown, Fast by a brook, or fountain's murmuring wave. And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave.
Страница 234 - JOY'S ecstatic trial : He, with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand address'd ; But soon he saw the brisk, awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best, They would have thought, who heard the strain. They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing...
Страница 152 - Is there a heart that music cannot melt ? Alas ! how is that rugged heart forlorn ; Is there, who ne'er those mystic transports felt Of solitude and melancholy born ? He needs not woo the Muse ; he is her scorn.
Страница 95 - ... shooting into a variety of grotesque forms, composed a scenery singularly solemn and sublime.* Dark woods, intermingled with bold projections of rock, sometimes barren, and sometimes covered with the purple bloom of wild flowers, impended over the lake, and were seen in the clear mirror of its waters. The wild and alpine heights which rose above were either crowned with perpetual snows, or exhibited tremendous crags and masses of solid rock, whose appearance was continually changing as the rays...
Страница 66 - Brood of fate, Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait ; Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see, And look not madly wild, like thee?
Страница 1 - He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, And with a withering look The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe. And ever and anon he beat...
Страница 205 - Mighty victor, mighty lord! Low on his funeral couch he lies! No pitying heart, no eye, afford A tear to grace his obsequies.