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Allen Annie Carden answer Astley Boyle Astley's Belfast believe better Boyle's bride brother Cape Town colour companion dare say dear disappointed doubt exclaimed expect eyes fancy favour fear feelings fellow fortune gentleman give glad Glasgow hand happy HARTLEY COLERIDGE hear heard heart Honiton hope hurry idea impostor inquired John Boyle Keswick knew ladies laugh leave London look Louisa Grant Malone Malvern marriage marry Mary Mathon matter ment mind miserable Miss Carden Miss Denys Miss Fielder Miss Grant never Newton Norman Grant obliged party perhaps pity pleasant present pretty promise quiet quietly regret replied Annie replied Clarke replied Flora replied Hamilton Robert Masters seemed silence sister smiling sorrow sorry speak spoke suppose sure surprise tell Thank Thelwall thing thought told Torquay trust uncle walk Walter Long wedding whilst wish woman wonder young
Page 311 - Out upon it, I have loved Three whole days together! And am like to love three more. If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on 't is, no praise Is due at all to me: Love with me had made no stays.
Page 168 - Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, And can't tell where to find them, Leave them alone, and they'll come home, And bring their tails behind them.
Page 86 - And far out-date thy little memory. How many tears have dropp'd since thou wert born, Some on the cradle, some upon the grave ! Yet having thee, thy father, not forlorn, Felt he had something yet of God to crave. For who hath aught to love, and loves aright, Will never in the darkest strait despair ; For out of love exhales a living light, A light that speaks — a light whose breath is prayer.
Page 72 - NEVER wedding, ever wooing, Still a love-lorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue ? All my life with sorrow strewing, Wed, or cease to woo.
Page 258 - SAY — what is worse than blank despair, 'Tis that sick hope too weak for flying, That plays at fast and loose with care, And wastes a weary life in dying. Though promise be a welcome guest, Yet may it be too late a comer, 'Tis but a cuckoo voice at best, The joy of spring, scarce heard in summer. Then now consent, this very hour, Let the kind word of peace be spoken ; Like dew upon a withered...