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appeared asked beautiful became become better brothers called captain character clear close coming cried dark dead dear death door English eyes face fact father fear feel fell fire followed gave give Gluck gone hair half hand head hear heard heart hold hour human James keep lady leave less light live looked master means mind morning nature never Nicholas night observed officer once passed person Pickwick poor present Ready replied River round savages Seagrave seemed seen side soon soul spirit Squeers stand stood sure tell thee thing thought tion took tree true truth turned voice walk watch whole wish woman women young youth
Page 91 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Page 262 - Horror the soul of the plot. But see, amid the mimic rout, A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued.
Page 355 - There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.
Page 138 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells.
Page 322 - Take heed, that in thy verse Thou dost the tale rehearse, Else dread a dead man's curse; For this I sought thee. "Far in the Northern Land, By the wild Baltic's strand, I, with my childish hand, Tamed the gerfalcon; And, with my skates fast-bound, Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, That the poor, whimpering hound Trembled to walk on.
Page 318 - MAIDEN ! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies ! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, As the braided streamlets run ! Standing, with reluctant feet. Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet ! Gazing, with a timid glance.
Page 324 - And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail, Death ! was the helmsman's hail, Death without quarter...
Page 78 - I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Page 296 - But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit; perhaps it required a dozen — who shall tell ? " THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; OR THE BLACK BROTHERS.