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advance answered appeared arms army asked attack believe better body British broke brought called carried cavalry charge close coming command continued course cried dear division door English eyes face fight fire five followed force French front give gone guns half hand head heard heart held hill hope horse hour Italy kind knew lady leave less light lived looked Lord mean mind morning moved nature never night officers once passed perhaps person Pomeroy poor present prisoners reached round Russian seemed seen sent side Sir George soldiers stand story sure taken talk tell things thought Tolcarne told took town turned voice week Wellington whole woman young
Page 89 - twas a famous victory. 'My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly: So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
Page 461 - In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Lo! in that house of misery A lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom, And flit from room to room. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls.
Page 461 - As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent.
Page 14 - PRENTICES TO DEATH, AND HID THEM IN THE COAL-HOLE. For her mind Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine Of the Orthyan goddess he bade flog The little Spartans ; such as erst chastised Our Milton, when at college.
Page 414 - It did ; and to prove that she did not keep them waiting, in a few minutes she came into the room in a loose white nightgown and shawl, her nightcap thrown off, and her hair falling upon her shoulders, her feet in slippers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly collected and dignified.
Page 137 - Where the great Sun begins his state Robed in flames and amber light, The clouds in thousand liveries dight; While the ploughman, near at hand, Whistles o'er the furrowed land, And the milkmaid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Page 90 - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene.
Page 325 - Behn curiously sealed up, with " private and confidential " on the packet, to my gay old grand-aunt. The next time I saw her afterwards she gave me back Aphra, properly wrapped up, with nearly these words : — " Take back your bonny Mrs. Behn, and if you will take my advice, put her in the fire ; for I found it impossible to get through the very first novel. But is it not...
Page 196 - Oh! if I were Queen of France, Or still better, Pope of Rome, I would have no fighting men abroad, No weeping maids at home.