Home: A Novel, Том 3

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J. Mawman, 1802
 

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Сторінка 15 - How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on ! With easy force it opens all the cells Where Mem'ry slept. Wherever I have heard A kindred melody, the scene recurs, And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Сторінка 25 - As those we love decay, we die in part, String after string is sever'd from the heart ; Till loosen'd life at last — but breathing clay, Without one pang, is glad to fall away.
Сторінка 15 - There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; Some chord, in unison with what we hear, Is touched within us, and the heart replies.
Сторінка 24 - ... them of. Myriads rise to my remembrance, whom I have seen beaming with hope, and eager in pursuit, that are now swept from the earth. Not a town or village do I know, that does not speak to me of the ravages of time. The busy multitude appear as phantoms fleeting before...
Сторінка 25 - This truth is yet more painfully enforced bythe recollection of the numerous friends I have lost. Memory places them before me. I see the convivial boards at which they sat, where Youth and Age mingled together, in social...
Сторінка 24 - Even where deeply interested, I am still but acting a part for the sake of others. Nor does this arise solely from the memory of my own sorrows; it springs also from the contemplation of life.
Сторінка 112 - Madam, from every view I can. take of the subject, I am convinced that I should do morally wrong in receiving Salty fusliffe as a daughter-in-law ; and you must forgive my saying, that I desire you will never propose it to me again...
Сторінка 24 - Nor does this arise solely from the memory of my own sorrows; it springs also from the contemplation of life. At my age, a mind in the least saddened by misfortune, can hardly fail to be deeply...

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