The White Doe of Rylstone, Or, The Fate of the Nortons

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Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, and Roberts, 1859 - 165 páginas
 

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Página 38 - What harmonious pensive changes Wait upon her as she ranges Round and through this pile of state Overthrown and desolate! Now a step or two her way Is through space of open day, Where the enamoured sunny light Brightens her that was so bright; Now doth a delicate shadow fall, Falls upon her like a breath, From some lofty arch or wall, As she passes underneath.
Página 159 - If for a lover the lady wept, A solace she might borrow From death, and from the passion of death: Old Wharf might heal her sorrow. She weeps not for the wedding-day Which was to be to-morrow: Her hope was a further-looking hope, And hers is a mother's sorrow.
Página 36 - When out of sight the clouds are driven, And she is left alone in heaven ; Or like a ship some gentle day In sunshine sailing far away, A glittering ship, that hath the plain Of ocean for her own domain.
Página 5 - melior natura ;" which courage is manifestly such as that creature, without that confidence of a better nature than his own, could never attain. So man, when he resteth and assureth himself upon divine protection and favour, gathereth a force and faith, which human nature in itself could not obtain...
Página 18 - Gramercy, Christopher, my sonne, Thy counsell well it liketh mee, And if we speed and scape with life, Well advanced shalt thou bee.
Página 5 - They that deny a God destroy man's nobility ; for certainly man is of kin to the beasts by his body ; and if he be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature.
Página 35 - White Doe," page 5: Fast the church-yard fills;— anon Look again and they all are gone; They cluster round the porch, and the folk Who sate in the shade of the prior's oak! And scarcely have they disappeared...
Página 79 - The monumental pomp of age Was with this goodly Personage ; A stature undepressed in size, Unbent, which rather seemed to rise, In open victory o'er the weight Of seventy years, to loftier height...
Página 160 - The stately priory was reared ; And Wharf, as he moved along, To matins joined a mournful voice, Nor failed at evensong. And the lady prayed in heaviness That looked not for relief; But slowly did her succour come, And a patience to her grief. Oh! there is never sorrow of heart That shall lack a timely end, If but to God we turn, and ask Of Him to be our friend.

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