Marriage: A Novel

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Harper & brothers, 1847 - English fiction - 156 pages
 

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Marriage

User Review  - Publishers Weekly

With her sharp eye for human foibles and fancies, Scottish author Ferrier (1782–1854) outsold her contemporary Jane Austen with witty stories of Scottish social life. Two centuries later, her first ... Read full review

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - startingover - LibraryThing

It's unfair, I think, to make comparisons between Ferrier and Jane Austen. Whilst there are areas of similarity (and Ferrier was known to admire Austen), the comparison does Ferrier no favours. It's ... Read full review

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Page 57 - They say, miracles are past ; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence it is, that we make trifles of terrors ; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when •we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
Page 130 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Page 110 - Sweet Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Page 111 - Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
Page 19 - Still to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face; That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
Page 111 - ... full glory, either at the rising or setting of it, he would be so transported and amazed, and so admire the glory of it, that he would not willingly turn his eyes from that first ravishing object, to behold all the other various beauties this world could present to him.
Page 139 - As it slipped through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed ; So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 10 - And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe...
Page 127 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Page 111 - I say, as I thus sat, joying in my own happy condition, and pitying this poor rich man that owned this and many other pleasant groves and meadows about me, I did thankfully remember what my Saviour said, that the meek possess the earth...

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