Tinsley's Magazine, Volume 27Tinsley Brothers, 1880 - English fiction |
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Page 2
... heart . The country - peace , quiet , rest -welcome thrice - blessed rest ! O , would she were out in the familiar meadows already ! She seems to see their lovely , green , undulating expanse before her . She notes the golden wealth of ...
... heart . The country - peace , quiet , rest -welcome thrice - blessed rest ! O , would she were out in the familiar meadows already ! She seems to see their lovely , green , undulating expanse before her . She notes the golden wealth of ...
Page 8
... heart - whole still ; so there can be no danger . ' As Clare listens , but makes no re- ply . She does not share Madame Delaine's conviction - indeed , she has reason to doubt the sound state of Susie's heart , though the girl has made ...
... heart - whole still ; so there can be no danger . ' As Clare listens , but makes no re- ply . She does not share Madame Delaine's conviction - indeed , she has reason to doubt the sound state of Susie's heart , though the girl has made ...
Page 9
... heart . ' Poor Clare ' A devoted wife ! ' feels as though a healing wound were suddenly torn open within her heart . She hides her face and bursts into a passion of tears . Madame Delaine , who has al- ways seen the girl self ...
... heart . ' Poor Clare ' A devoted wife ! ' feels as though a healing wound were suddenly torn open within her heart . She hides her face and bursts into a passion of tears . Madame Delaine , who has al- ways seen the girl self ...
Page 14
... heart , and he loves me , and some day I am to be his wife . It may be a long time first ; but I trust him as much as I love him , and so , of course , I can wait . ' ' Come , then , my children , come ! ' cries Madame Delaine from ...
... heart , and he loves me , and some day I am to be his wife . It may be a long time first ; but I trust him as much as I love him , and so , of course , I can wait . ' ' Come , then , my children , come ! ' cries Madame Delaine from ...
Page 65
... heart and soul , I had never left this . ' 6 My son ! What , am I listening to the words of my sane son , or those of a man whose brain is turned ? ' ' I think my brain is a little out of order . I fear I greatly exagger- ate things ...
... heart and soul , I had never left this . ' 6 My son ! What , am I listening to the words of my sane son , or those of a man whose brain is turned ? ' ' I think my brain is a little out of order . I fear I greatly exagger- ate things ...
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Common terms and phrases
able Amaranth answered appeared arms asked beauty believe better called child Clare coming course cried dear don't door Ernest eyes face fact father fear feel felt followed gave George girl give half hand happy Harold head hear heard heart hope interest Kate keep kind knew lady leave less light live London look Lord Marie married matter Maurice mean meet mind Miss morning mother Nancy nature Nellie never Nevill night once Osborne passed poor present promise round says seemed seen servants side smile soon speak stand strange suppose sure Susie sweet talk tell thing thought tion told took trouble turned uncle voice wait walk wife wish woman wonder young
Popular passages
Page 263 - With half-dropt eyelids still, Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hill— To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro' the thick-twined vine— To watch the emerald-colour'd water falling Thro' many a wov'n acanthus-wreath divine!
Page 131 - Hitherto the human face had mixed often in my dreams, but not despotically nor with any special power of tormenting. But now that which I have called the tyranny of the human face began to unfold itself. Perhaps some part of my London life might be answerable for this.
Page 132 - I have called the tyranny of the human face began to unfold itself. Perhaps some part of my London life might be answerable for this. Be that as it may, now it was that upon the rocking waters of the ocean the human face began to...
Page 132 - ... heart-breaking partings, and then — everlasting farewells! And with a sigh, such as the caves of Hell sighed when the incestuous mother uttered the abhorred name of death, the sound was reverberated — everlasting farewells! And again and yet again reverberated — everlasting farewells! And I awoke in struggles, and cried aloud — "I will sleep no more.
Page 132 - I lay inactive. Then, like a chorus, the passion deepened; some greater interest was at stake, some mightier cause than ever yet the sword had pleaded, or trumpet had proclaimed. Then came sudden alarms...
Page 281 - ... flashed and failed, We thought of wrecks upon the main, — Of ships dismasted, that were hailed And sent no answer back again. The windows, rattling in their frames, — The ocean, roaring up the beach, — The gusty blast, — the bickering flames, — All mingled vaguely in our speech ; Until they made themselves a part Of fancies floating through the brain, — The long-lost ventures of the heart, That send no answers back again.
Page 132 - Anthem; and, like that, gave the feeling of a multitudinous movement, of infinite cavalcades filing off, and the tread of innumerable armies. The morning was come of a mighty day— a day of crisis and of ultimate hope for human nature, then suffering mysterious eclipse, and labouring in some dread extremity.
Page 211 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
Page 339 - WHEN the summer fields are mown, When the birds are fledged and flown. And the dry leaves strew the path ; With the falling of the snow, With the cawing of the crow, Once again the fields we mow And gather in the aftermath. Not the sweet, new grass with flowers Is this harvesting of ours ; Not the upland clover bloom ; But the rowen mixed with weeds, Tangled tufts from marsh and meads, ' Where the poppy drops its seeds, In the silence and the gloom.
Page 131 - I think it was, that this faculty became positively distressing to me: at night, when I lay awake in bed, vast processions passed along in mournful pomp; friezes of never-ending stories, that to my feelings were as sad and solemn as if they were stories drawn from times before CEdipus or Priam — before Tyre — before Memphis.