The New York Journal: An Illustrated Literary Periodical, Volume 3P. D. Orvis, 1854 |
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Page 14
... proclaimed , in a loud voice , the arrival of the King . With all the pomp of royalty , and attended by a numerous retinue , the King stepped into the place and the importance of his subject , had given to 14 THE NEW YORK JOURNAL .
... proclaimed , in a loud voice , the arrival of the King . With all the pomp of royalty , and attended by a numerous retinue , the King stepped into the place and the importance of his subject , had given to 14 THE NEW YORK JOURNAL .
Page 15
... voice , no agitation in his manner , no shrinking from his purpose , even in the presence of majesty , for , with the full conviction of the justice and holiness of his cause , Viole would bow before no earthly power . for which that ...
... voice , no agitation in his manner , no shrinking from his purpose , even in the presence of majesty , for , with the full conviction of the justice and holiness of his cause , Viole would bow before no earthly power . for which that ...
Page 18
... voice on your behalf . But is it nothing to you that your success [ DIANA OF POITIERS PROMISING The old St. Flore . ' man turned pale , and tears started to the maiden's eyes . " Du Bourg , " he said , " I thought you a friend ! Am I ...
... voice on your behalf . But is it nothing to you that your success [ DIANA OF POITIERS PROMISING The old St. Flore . ' man turned pale , and tears started to the maiden's eyes . " Du Bourg , " he said , " I thought you a friend ! Am I ...
Page 23
... voice . Wandering to and him again ; and he stood up , holding by the mantel - fro , unceasingly , without hope , and search of he shelf , as he pressed his dank cold hair down with knew not what ( he only knew that he was doomed hand ...
... voice . Wandering to and him again ; and he stood up , holding by the mantel - fro , unceasingly , without hope , and search of he shelf , as he pressed his dank cold hair down with knew not what ( he only knew that he was doomed hand ...
Page 24
... voice , nor had he power to stir . If this be real , and her allotted time be not yet come , wake . Rachael , wake ! She thought of that , too . She looked at Rachael , and very slowly , very cautiously , poured out the con tents . The ...
... voice , nor had he power to stir . If this be real , and her allotted time be not yet come , wake . Rachael , wake ! She thought of that , too . She looked at Rachael , and very slowly , very cautiously , poured out the con tents . The ...
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Common terms and phrases
Acevedo Adelma Admiral Anne Boleyn appeared arms asked Auvergne beautiful better Blackpool Bomarsund Bounderby brother called castle Coketown Coligny dark daughter Dauphiny dear door Du Plessis Mornay Duke of Guise Elizabeth Espartero exclaimed eyes face father fear feel Gabrielle girl Gradgrind hand happy Harthouse head hear heard heart Henry honor hope horse hour Huguenots King knew lady light live looked Lord Louis XVIII Louisa ma'am Madame majesty marriage Mary ment Michel mind morning never night once palace passed poor Queen Rabaud Rachael replied returned Rouen round royal Saint Ghislain Salers seemed side Sissy sister smile soon Spain Sparsit Stephen stood Tavannes tears tell thee thing thou thought tion took town turned Viole voice walked woman word YORK JOURNAL young youth
Popular passages
Page 108 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Page 108 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted— nevermore!
Page 64 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Page 23 - I know your heart, and am right sure and certain that 'tis far too merciful to let her die, or even so much as suffer, for want of aid. Thou knowest who said, ' Let him who is without sin among you cast the first stone at her !" There have been plenty to do that.
Page 121 - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout...
Page 107 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Page 118 - There's not a Hand in this town, sir, man, woman, or child, but has one ultimate object in life. That object is, to be fed on turtle soup and venison with a gold spoon.
Page 107 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.
Page 107 - Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Page 56 - So, when this loose behaviour I throw off, And pay the debt I never promised, By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes ; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off.