By Celia's Arbour: A Tale of Portsmouth TownDodd, Mead, 1888 - 464 страница |
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arms asked Augustus Brambler Aunt Jane beautiful began brave brother Broughton Captain Celia church Copleston Count Pulaski cried Crimea Czar dead dear dinner eyes face Fareham father Ferdinand fight Forty-four gentleman George Tyrrell girl give gone hand happy harbour head heart Herr Räumer hope husband Jeram John Pontifex knew Laddy Ladislas Pulaski lady laughed Leonard live looked Lord Raglan Miss Rutherford morning Moses mother Muscovite never night once perhaps Perseus play Poland Poles Polish poor port quiet remember replied revenge Roman Pulaski round Russian sailors ships Siberia sitting soldiers speak stood story street supper suppose sweet talk tell things thought told took town Trinity Sunday Tyrrell Tyrrell's Victory Row voice waiting walked wall Wassie Wassielewski watch whispered wife woman words young
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Страница 171 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Страница 170 - O Friend! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our Life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom!— We must run glittering like a Brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest: The wealthiest man among us is the best: No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us.
Страница 193 - BLOW high, blow low, let tempests tear, The main-mast by the board ; My heart, with thoughts of thee, my dear, And love well stored, Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear, The roaring winds, the raging sea, In hopes on shore To be once more Safe moored with thee ! Aloft while mountains high we go, The whistling winds that scud along, And...
Страница 171 - But for those first affections Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal silence : truths that wake To perish never...
Страница 297 - twas Saturday night : Some sweetheart or wife that he loved as his life Each drank, while he wish'd he could hail her ; But the standing toast that pleased the most Was — The wind that blows, the ship that goes, And the lass that loves a sailor...
Страница 170 - In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy Brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look; But with a sweet forgetting They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. Ah would 'twere so with many A gentle girl and boy! But were there ever any Writhed not at passed joy ? To know the change and feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steal it — Was never said in rhyme.
Страница 138 - The great exhibition," writes a popular novelist — a social philosopher as well — "did one great service for country people: It taught them how easy it is to get to London, and what a mine of wealth, especially for after-memory and purposes of conversation, exists in that great place.
Страница 170 - ... like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest : The wealthiest man among us is the best : No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry ; and these we adore : Plain living and high thinking are no more : The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone ; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws...
Страница 190 - Then there will be no great harm done, be sure. ' Like a tree planted by the rivers of water, his leaf shall not wither.' Now I tell you what we will [do. We will blow some of the trouble away by a sail up the harbour. First let us have tea."
Страница 204 - It has written upon it what it says : '"We good people all To prayers do call. We honour to king, And brides joy do bring. Good tidings we tell, And ring the dead's knell.'" "' Good tidings we tell,'" she whispers. " What good tidings for us, Laddy ?" " I will tell you presently," I say,