The Works of Mary Russell Mitford: Prose and Verse, Viz Our Village, Belford Regis, Country Stories, Finden's Tableaux, Foscari, Julian, Rienzi, Charles the First
Crissy, 1841 - 672 стор.
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admiration amongst appearance beautiful Belford better body bright called child comfort common daughter dear delight door English equally eyes face fair father feeling fine flowers followed garden girl give green habits half hand happy head heard heart hour keep kind lady Lane leaves less light lived look manner married master means meet mind Miss morning mother natural neighbour never once parish party passed perhaps person play pleasant poor pretty rich rose round seemed seen short side sister smile sort spirit standing sure sweet talk tall tell thing thought tion took town trees turned usual village voice walk whilst whole wife woman young
Сторінка 342 - Loved the church so well, and gave so largely to't, They thought it should have canopied their bones Till doomsday ; but all things have their end : Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men, Must have like death that we have.
Сторінка 419 - See the wretch, that long has tost On the thorny bed of pain, At length repair his vigour lost, And breathe and walk again : The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.
Сторінка 40 - He could not run division with more art Upon his quaking instrument, than she The nightingale did with her various notes Reply to.
Сторінка 40 - To glorify their Tempe, bred in me Desire of visiting that paradise. To Thessaly I came ; and living private, Without acquaintance of more sweet companions Than the old inmates to my love, my thoughts, I day by day frequented silent groves And solitary walks.
Сторінка 30 - ... like a young Diana, and a bounding, skimming, enjoying motion, as if native to the element, which might have become a Naiad. I have seen her on the topmost round of a ladder, with one foot on the roof of a house, flinging down the grapes that no one else had nerve enough to reach, laughing, and garlanded, and crowned with vine leaves, like a Bacchante. But the prettiest combination of circumstances under which I ever saw her, was driving a donkey cart up a hill one sunny windy day, in September.
Сторінка 41 - Alas, poor creature, I will soon revenge This cruelty upon the author of it. Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood, Shall never more betray a harmless peace To an untimely end ;" and in that sorrow, As he was pashing it against a tree, I suddenly stept in.
Сторінка 13 - She did, indeed, just hint at her troubles with visitors and servants, — how strange and sad it was ! seemed distressed at ringing the bell, and visibly shrank from the sound of a double knock. But, in spite of these calamities, Hannah is a happy woman. The double rap was her husband's ; and the glow on her cheek, and the smile of her lips and eyes when he appeared, spoke more plainly than ever, " Any where with him !
Сторінка 394 - Naiads' cells, And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping; Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping, The while they pelt each other on the crown...
Сторінка 48 - Behind these sallows, in a nook between them and the hill, rose the uncouth and shapeless cottage of Tom Cordery. It is a scene which hangs upon the eye and the memory, striking, grand, almost sublime, and above all eminently foreign. No English painter would choose such a subject for an English landscape ; no one in a picture would take it for English. It might pass for one of those scenes which have furnished models to Salvator Rosa. Tom's cottage was, however, very thoroughly national and characteristic...