Ravenscliffe, by the author of 'Emilia Wyndham'.

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Tauchnitz, 1851 - 646 pages

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Page 214 - Tempest-shattered, Floating waste and desolate; — Ever drifting, drifting, drifting On the shifting Currents of the restless heart; Till at length in books recorded, They, like hoarded Household words, no more depart.
Page 31 - Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts, And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest, Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro...
Page 7 - ... the land and see good days. No : lying is so deeply rooted in nature that we may expel it with a fork, and yet it will always come back again: it is like the poor, we must have it always with us. We must all eat a peck of moral dirt before we die. All depends upon who it is that is lying. One man may steal a horse when another may not look over a hedge.
Page 291 - If I have said it once, I have said it a hundred times, sir — I will not have it done ! I expect obedience, Edwin.
Page 252 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Page 56 - ... The days of mourning for my father are at hand ; then will I slay my brother Jacob. And these words of Esau her elder son were told to Rebekah : and she sent and called Jacob her younger son, and said unto him, Behold, thy brother Esau, as touching thee, doth comfort himself, purposing to kill thee.
Page 81 - I take it the carriages will be at the door, and down the lovely bride will come." "But you do not or will not understand me, Everard. Every one seems in a league, I think, wilfully to misunderstand me this morning. I want — I wish — I must — and I will — speak to Eleanor for a few minutes alone, — before she comes down to enter your father's carriage.
Page 88 - And his servant came up with his hat and gloves, which he took mechanically, and followed passively into the carriage, whilst the winds lifted their loud voices, and whistled, and roared, as if in wild and gloomy mockery; the huge trees bent and bowed their huge branches to the earth, as if in a bitter irony of congratulation; the vanes upon the roofs shrieked and cried, and all nature seemed rushing together in wildest uproar, like that which was raging in his own breast. Miss Montague took her...
Page 186 - I do not love him as a woman ought to love the man she marries. Do not, mother ! If this marriage were to take place — which, please God, it never, never shall — it would be a miserable one.

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