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admiration amid appear attention bear beauty blood bound breath bright called character charm Christian close dark death distant dreamed earth equal fall fancy favor fearful feel felt friends future genius give given glance glittering glory grave ground hand heard heart heaven Holy honor hope hour human imagination influence intellect knew knowledge language light live look loved means melody mind mortal nature never night o'er observation Osmail Passing passion pleasure poet poor possess praise present pride pure reader reason richness rolled scarce scenes Scott seek seemed Shylock smile soul sound spirit star story sweet tale thing thou thought thousand tion true truth turned voice wasted wild wonder
Seite 8 - Cerements of lead and of wood already hold her ; cold earth must have her soon. But it is not my Charlotte, it is not the bride of my youth, the mother of my children, that will be laid among the ruins of Dryburgh, which we have so often visited in gaiety and pastime. No, no.
Seite 8 - But alone, or if anything touches me — the choking sensation. I have been to her room: there was no voice in it — no stirring ; the pressure of the coffin was visible on the bed, but it had been removed elsewhere; all was neat as she loved it, but all was calm — cahu as death.
Seite 7 - Anne; an impoverished, an embarrassed man, deprived of the sharer of my thoughts and counsels, who could always talk down my sense of the calamitous apprehensions which break the heart that must bear them alone. — Even her foibles were of service to me, by giving me things to think of beyond my weary self-reflections. ' I have seen her. The figure I beheld is, and is not my Charlotte — my thirty years
Seite 7 - Charlotte — my thirty years' companion. There is the same symmetry of form, though those limbs are rigid which were once so gracefully elastic — but that yellow mask, with pinched features, which seems to mock life rather than emulate it, can it be the face that was once so full of lively expression ? I will not look on it again.
Seite 44 - What though, when they hear my soft strain, The Virgins sit weeping around; Ah ! COLIN ! thy hopes are in vain ! Thy pipe and thy laurel resign! Thy False One inclines to a Swain, Whose music is sweeter than thine!
Seite 7 - She died at nine in the morning, after being very ill for two days — easy at last. I arrived here late last night. Anne is worn out, and has had hysterics, which returned on my arrival. Her broken accents were like those of a child, the language as well as the tones broken, but in the most gentle voice of submission. " Pool mamma — never return again — gone forever — a better place.
Seite 2 - Her golden mountains where? all darken'd down To naked waste; a dreary vale of tears. The great magician's dead ! Thou poor, pale piece Of outcast earth, in darkness: what a change From yesterday!
Seite 22 - Before the gates there sat On either side a formidable shape; The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair, But ended foul in many a scaly fold Voluminous and vast, a serpent armed With mortal sting.
Seite 8 - I have been to her room: there was no voice in it — no stirring; the pressure of the coffin was visible on the bed, but it had been removed elsewhere; all was neat as she loved it, but all was calm — calm as death. I remembered the last sight of her; she raised herself in bed, and tried to turn her eyes after me, and said, with a sort of smile, "You all have such melancholy faces.
Seite 8 - ... visible on the bed, but it had been removed elsewhere ; all was neat, as she loved it, but all was calm — calm as death. I remembered the last sight of her ; she raised herself in bed, and tried to turn her eyes after me, and said, with a sort of smile, ' You all have such melancholy faces.