Twice Told TalesA.L. Burt Company, 1900 - 435 стор. |
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Результати 1-5 із 36
Сторінка 41
... bosom of a corpse ! He wiped away the tear , even with his shroud . For- " Beloved of my youth , " said he , " I have been wild . The despair of my whole lifetime . had returned at once and maddened me . give and be forgiven . Yes ; it ...
... bosom of a corpse ! He wiped away the tear , even with his shroud . For- " Beloved of my youth , " said he , " I have been wild . The despair of my whole lifetime . had returned at once and maddened me . give and be forgiven . Yes ; it ...
Сторінка 58
... bosom he should be affrighted by him- self . This was what gave plausibility to the whispers that Mr. Hooper's conscience tor- tured him for some great crime too horrible to be entirely concealed or otherwise than so obscurely intimated ...
... bosom he should be affrighted by him- self . This was what gave plausibility to the whispers that Mr. Hooper's conscience tor- tured him for some great crime too horrible to be entirely concealed or otherwise than so obscurely intimated ...
Сторінка 101
... bosom . " + She knelt down and embraced him again and again , while the joy that could find no words expressed itself in broken accents , like the bubbles gushing up to vanish at the surface of a deep fountain . The sorrows of past ...
... bosom . " + She knelt down and embraced him again and again , while the joy that could find no words expressed itself in broken accents , like the bubbles gushing up to vanish at the surface of a deep fountain . The sorrows of past ...
Сторінка 127
... bosom , and he nestled there with no violence of joy , but contentedly as if he were hushing himself to sleep . He looked into her face , and , reading its agony , said with feeble earnestness . " Mourn not , dearest mother . I am happy ...
... bosom , and he nestled there with no violence of joy , but contentedly as if he were hushing himself to sleep . He looked into her face , and , reading its agony , said with feeble earnestness . " Mourn not , dearest mother . I am happy ...
Сторінка 162
... bosom might have hesitated . She , without having analyzed his character , was partly aware of a quiet selfishness that had rusted into his inac- tive mind ; of a peculiar sort of vanity , the most uneasy attribute about him ; of a ...
... bosom might have hesitated . She , without having analyzed his character , was partly aware of a quiet selfishness that had rusted into his inac- tive mind ; of a peculiar sort of vanity , the most uneasy attribute about him ; of a ...
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amid Annie appeared awful beauty beheld beneath black veil bosom breath bright Carbuncle Castle William chamber child cried Crystal Hills dark David Swan dead death deep Dominicus door dream earth Elinor ELLA WHEELER WILCOX Endicott England eyes face fancy Father feel figure fire gaze gentleman girl glance gleam gloom governor grave gray guests hand happy head heart heaven Heidegger Higginbotham hither Hooper Ilbrahim John Brown Kimballton Lady Eleanore light look lovers mansion Maypole Medbourne ment Merry Andrew Merry Mount mind mirth mortal mystery never night passed perhaps Peter Goldthwaite picture province-house Puritan Quaker replied round scene seemed shadow smile sorrow soul spirit spot steps stood strange street sunshine Tabitha thou thought tion town trees turned Twice Told vellum venerable village visage voice Wakefield wandering whispered whole wild window woman yonder young youth
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Сторінка 5 - No author, without a trial, can conceive of the difficulty of writing a romance about a country where there is no shadow, no antiquity, no mystery, no picturesque and gloomy wrong, nor anything but a commonplace prosperity, in broad and simple daylight, as is happily the case with my dear native land.
Сторінка 240 - The most desirable mode of existence might be that of a spiritualized Paul Pry, hovering invisible round man and woman, witnessing their deeds, searching into their hearts, borrowing brightness from their felicity and shade from their sorrow, and retaining no emotion peculiar to himself.
Сторінка 282 - Man must not disclaim his brotherhood, even with the guiltiest, since, though his hand be clean, his heart has surely been polluted by the flitting phantoms of iniquity.
Сторінка 63 - What, but the mystery which it obscurely typifies, has made this piece of crape so awful? When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend ; the lover to his best beloved; when man does not vainly shrink from the eye of his Creator, loathsomely treasuring up the secret of his sin — then deem me a monster, for the symbol beneath which I have lived, and die! I look around me, and, lo! on every visage a Black Veil!
Сторінка 176 - Who next ? Oh, my little friend, you are let loose from school, and come hither to scrub your blooming face, and drown the memory of certain taps of the ferule, and other schoolboy troubles, in a draught from the Town Pump.
Сторінка 181 - ... finally monopolize the whole business of quenching thirst. Blessed consummation! Then Poverty shall pass away from the land, finding no hovel so wretched where her squalid form may shelter herself.
Сторінка 11 - ... the street. A double rank of soldiers made their appearance, occupying the whole breadth of the passage, with shouldered matchlocks, and matches burning, so as to present a row of fires in the dusk. Their steady march was like the progress of a machine, that would roll irresistibly over everything in its way.
Сторінка 282 - In truth, there is no such thing in man's nature as a settled and full resolve, either for good or evil, except at the very moment of execution.
Сторінка 43 - Another clergyman in New England, Mr. Joseph Moody, of York, Maine, who died about eighty years since, made himself remarkable by the same eccentricity that is here related of the Reverend Mr. Hooper. In his case, however, the symbol had a different import. In early life he had accidentally killed a beloved friend; and from that day till the hour of his own death, he hid his face from men. "Are you sure it is our parson?" inquired Goodman Gray of the sexton. "Of a certainty it is good Mr. Hooper,
Сторінка 175 - I cry aloud to all and sundry in my plainest accents, and at the very tip-top of my voice : Here it is, gentlemen ! Here is the good liquor ! Walk up, walk up, gentlemen, walk up, walk up ! Here is the superior stuff!