Vernon Grove: Or, Hearts as They Are. A NovelRudd & Carleton, 1859 - 389 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 14
... the morn with only the memory of the beautiful to cheer him . His very wealth became at times a source of annoyance to him , for , from his gloomy brooding heart came thoughts of mistrust against those who CHAPTER II. ...
... the morn with only the memory of the beautiful to cheer him . His very wealth became at times a source of annoyance to him , for , from his gloomy brooding heart came thoughts of mistrust against those who CHAPTER II. ...
Page 32
... Memory . " -BAYARD TAYLOR . ANOTHER great resource of Sybil was to listen to Mr. Vernon's music . Linwood had said the truth when he told him that he possessed a fine musical taste , and it was one of the few pleasures which he enjoyed ...
... Memory . " -BAYARD TAYLOR . ANOTHER great resource of Sybil was to listen to Mr. Vernon's music . Linwood had said the truth when he told him that he possessed a fine musical taste , and it was one of the few pleasures which he enjoyed ...
Page 43
... memory strong , and with perception bright , Her words , her deeds , so uniformly right , That scarce one foible disconcerts your aims , And care and trouble - never name their names ! Yes , I forget you have one anxious care , You have ...
... memory strong , and with perception bright , Her words , her deeds , so uniformly right , That scarce one foible disconcerts your aims , And care and trouble - never name their names ! Yes , I forget you have one anxious care , You have ...
Page 84
... memory would ever be a busy companion . " To me this living in the past is enchanting , and of course to the artist - mind the enjoyment is double . It seems to me , too , that I would never have cared to journey abroad , unless I had ...
... memory would ever be a busy companion . " To me this living in the past is enchanting , and of course to the artist - mind the enjoyment is double . It seems to me , too , that I would never have cared to journey abroad , unless I had ...
Page 93
... spirits under which you see me laboring , is the memory of the past , rising up in wave after wave of bitter feeling , which will not be stilled by any endeavor on my part . You wished the other day for Vernon Grove . 93.
... spirits under which you see me laboring , is the memory of the past , rising up in wave after wave of bitter feeling , which will not be stilled by any endeavor on my part . You wished the other day for Vernon Grove . 93.
Other editions - View all
Vernon Grove: Or, Hearts as They Are. a Novel Caroline Howard Gilman Glover Jervey No preview available - 2019 |
Vernon Grove, Or, Hearts As They Are: A Novel Caroline Howard Gilman Glover Jervey No preview available - 2012 |
Common terms and phrases
50 cents Albert Linwood amanuensis answered arms asked BARRY CORNWALL BAYARD TAYLOR BEATRICE CENCI beauty beloved better bird blind breath bright brow calm cheerful child clasped Clayton cold companion cottage dark dream earnest eyes face fear feel felt Florence flowers forget gaze gentle give glance grandmother hand happy hear heard heart heaven hope hour Isabel Italy knew Leslie light lips listened little Sybil look memory midnight stars morning Muslin naiad nature never night once overmastered pain passed passion picture pleasure prayer presence price $1 promise racter Richard Richard Vernon Robert Clayton scarcely seemed silent sister smile song sorrow soul spirit stalagmite stood strong sweet Sybil Gray tears tell tender thing thought tion told tone trembling uncon unconscious uttered Vernon Grove voice watching weary whispered wish wonder words young
Popular passages
Page 172 - Alas ! the love of women ! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone...
Page 81 - Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours. Where are they? With the years beyond the flood. It is the signal that demands despatch: How much is to be done! My hopes and fears Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? A fathomless abyss ! A dread eternity!
Page 302 - Nor dare she trust a larger lay, But rather loosens from the lip Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
Page 68 - Thus solemnized and softened, death is mild And terrorless as this serenest night : Here could I hope, like some inquiring child Sporting on graves, that death did hide from human sight Sweet secrets, or beside its breathless sleep That loveliest dreams perpetual watch did keep.
Page 55 - BETTER trust all and be deceived, And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart that, if believed, Had blessed one's life with true believing. Oh, in this mocking world, too fast The doubting fiend o'ertakes our youth; Better be cheated to the last Than lose the blessed hope of truth.
Page 286 - WHEN some beloved voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new — What hope ? what help ? what music will undo That silence to your sense?
Page 191 - And her face is lily-clear, Lily-shaped, and dropped in duty To the law of its own beauty. Oval cheeks encolored faintly, Which a trail of golden hair Keeps from fading off to air: And a forehead fair and saintly, Which two blue eyes undershine, Like meek prayers before a shrine.
Page 172 - And underneath that face, like summer ocean's, Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions, Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow — all save fear.
Page 300 - His love is hidden, like the springs Which lie in Earth's deep heart below, And murmur there a thousand things, Which naught above may hear or know. Tis hid, not buried ! Without sound, Or light or limit, night and day, It like the dark springs under ground, Runs, ebbs not, and can ne'er decay...
Page 145 - ... now, and far away the falling Of phantom feet. The glittering dome, the arch, the towering column. Are sights that greet us now on every hand, And all so wild — so strange — so sweetly solemn — So like one's fancies formed of fairy land ! And these then are your works, mysterious powers ! Your spells are o'er, around us, and beneath, These opening aisles, these crystal fruits and flowers, And glittering grots and high-arched beauteous bowers, As still as death...