Sybil Lennard, by the author of 'The young prima donna'. |
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Page 16
... happy . " I became dreadfully nervous when Mr. Dev- ereux informed me , that we were drawing near to Oakleigh Court ; and as we clattered through the village adjoining the park , I saw nothing of mind its picturesque beauty , so deeply ...
... happy . " I became dreadfully nervous when Mr. Dev- ereux informed me , that we were drawing near to Oakleigh Court ; and as we clattered through the village adjoining the park , I saw nothing of mind its picturesque beauty , so deeply ...
Page 17
... happy face was seen - the faithful portress curtseying a welcome home to the master ! My heart beat almost audibly ; my eyes grew dim ; every object seemed to float before them ; I saw nothing more , till soon- too soon , I thought , we ...
... happy face was seen - the faithful portress curtseying a welcome home to the master ! My heart beat almost audibly ; my eyes grew dim ; every object seemed to float before them ; I saw nothing more , till soon- too soon , I thought , we ...
Page 20
... lively scene burst upon my view - the important , merry bustle of a hay harvest . Delightfully to the senses came the hum of happy voices , and the balmy breeze wafted by the evening air ; it was rather late , but 20 SYBIL LENNARD .
... lively scene burst upon my view - the important , merry bustle of a hay harvest . Delightfully to the senses came the hum of happy voices , and the balmy breeze wafted by the evening air ; it was rather late , but 20 SYBIL LENNARD .
Page 21
... - cock rises thick behind , In order gay ; while hard from dale to dale Waking the breeze , resounds the blended voice Of happy labor , love , and social glee . " Oh ! memory , memory , what magic is in SYBIL LENNARD . 21.
... - cock rises thick behind , In order gay ; while hard from dale to dale Waking the breeze , resounds the blended voice Of happy labor , love , and social glee . " Oh ! memory , memory , what magic is in SYBIL LENNARD . 21.
Page 26
... alas ! our best works , how imperfect - how full of sin are they ! Sybilla having once passed the rubicon , once surmounted the difficulty of commencing our acquaintance , with the happy ease of child- hood 26 SYBIL LENNARD .
... alas ! our best works , how imperfect - how full of sin are they ! Sybilla having once passed the rubicon , once surmounted the difficulty of commencing our acquaintance , with the happy ease of child- hood 26 SYBIL LENNARD .
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Common terms and phrases
agony Albert Lennard amongst angel appeared arrival beautiful behold Bertie bright Brighton brow calm cerned cheek child Clareville countenance creature dark dark recollections daugh daughter dear Mary dear Sybil delight Devereux door dreadful Eton excited exclaimed expression eyes face fancy father fear feelings Felicie felt gaze gentle girl glance hand happy Hardress Fitz Hugh head heard heart husband imagine innocent Irish Killarney knew Lady Mordaunt light lips little Sybil look Lord Castlerosse Mademoiselle Mary ment mind misery mother murmured nard nature never Norah Oakleigh Court once pale passed passion poor present pupil racter replied scarcely scene seemed Sidmouth sight sister smile soon sorbed sorrow soul speak spirit stood strange suffered sweet Sybil Lennard tears tender thought tion tone truly turned voice whilst wife wild woman words wretched young youth
Popular passages
Page 83 - Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people...
Page 69 - ... shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee Who knew thee too well : Long, long shall I rue thee Too deeply to tell. In secret we met: In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? — With silence and tears.
Page 250 - Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Page 15 - God made the country, and man made the town. What wonder then that health and virtue, gifts, That can alone make sweet the bitter draught, That life holds out to all, should most abound And least be threatened in the fields and groves...
Page 314 - They have been with me through the dreamy night — The blessed household voices, wont to fill My heart's clear depths with unalloy'd delight ! I hear them still, unchang'd : — though some from earth Are music parted, and the tones of mirth — Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright ! Have died in others, — yet to me they come, Singing of boyhood back — the voices of my home ! II.
Page 1 - They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling, mourn: The tree will wither long before it fall ; The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn; The roof-tree sinks, but moulders on the hall In massy hoariness; the...
Page 65 - Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world But those who slide along the grassy sod, And sting the luckless foot that presses them ? There are who in the path of social life Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun, And sting the soul — Ay, till its healthful frame Is chang'd to secret, fest'ring, sore disease, So deadly is the wound.
Page 219 - ... 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 81 - Well! thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy weal Warmly as it was wont to do. Thy husband's blest— and 'twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass— Oh! how my heart Would hate him, if he loved thee not! When late I saw thy favourite child I thought my jealous heart would break; But when the unconscious infant smiled, I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.
Page 88 - Fair shoulders, curling lip, and dauntless brow — Fit for the world's strife, not for poet's dreaming; .And proud the lifting of thy stately head, And the firm bearing of thy conscious tread.