The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 119 |
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Page
By W . CHARLES KENT . . . . 88 East LYNNE . BY THE AUTHOR OF “ ASHLEY " .
. . 89 , 200 , 269 , 405 THE POLICY OF ANNEXATION . . . . . . . . . . 111 THE
CHANCES OF INVASION . . . . . . . . . . 127 HE SPEAKS NOT OF THE OLD TIMES
.
By W . CHARLES KENT . . . . 88 East LYNNE . BY THE AUTHOR OF “ ASHLEY " .
. . 89 , 200 , 269 , 405 THE POLICY OF ANNEXATION . . . . . . . . . . 111 THE
CHANCES OF INVASION . . . . . . . . . . 127 HE SPEAKS NOT OF THE OLD TIMES
.
Page 16
And how benign she was ! Grand sat on the couch beside her , and I on an
ottoman on her left , and she leaned back in her magnificent toilette , Airting her
fan like a Castilian , and flashing upon us her superb eyes from behind it ; not
speaking ...
And how benign she was ! Grand sat on the couch beside her , and I on an
ottoman on her left , and she leaned back in her magnificent toilette , Airting her
fan like a Castilian , and flashing upon us her superb eyes from behind it ; not
speaking ...
Page 34
Seymour looked with speaking eyes at Helen as he finished his song ; and Helen
felt confused , overwhelmed . She was touched by the words of his song , by the
rich melody of his voice , and by the melancholy of his countenance ; but ...
Seymour looked with speaking eyes at Helen as he finished his song ; and Helen
felt confused , overwhelmed . She was touched by the words of his song , by the
rich melody of his voice , and by the melancholy of his countenance ; but ...
Page 36
... he neither relinquished it during the morning ' s ramble nor during dinner , and
so entirely engrossed her conversation , that she had scarcely time to speak to
any one else . When Mrs . Mackenzie , somewhat rudely , broke up the party ,
who ...
... he neither relinquished it during the morning ' s ramble nor during dinner , and
so entirely engrossed her conversation , that she had scarcely time to speak to
any one else . When Mrs . Mackenzie , somewhat rudely , broke up the party ,
who ...
Page 38
No , no , come now , " said Mr . Mackenzie , “ we must not speak or think so
undutifully of our mother country . As they say in Scotland , • England ' s bark is
waur than her bite . ' ” . “ I wish we belonged to your country , Mr . Fish ; we should
...
No , no , come now , " said Mr . Mackenzie , “ we must not speak or think so
undutifully of our mother country . As they say in Scotland , • England ' s bark is
waur than her bite . ' ” . “ I wish we belonged to your country , Mr . Fish ; we should
...
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Popular passages
Page 39 - Into a Limbo large and broad, since called The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown Long after, now unpeopled and untrod.
Page 158 - And she hath watched Many a nightingale perch giddily On blossomy twig still swinging from the breeze, And to that motion tune his wanton song Like tipsy joy that reels with tossing head.
Page 153 - But first, and chiefest, with thee bring, Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation; And the mute Silence hist along, 'Less Philomel will deign a song...
Page 157 - Or slow distemper, or neglected love, (And so, poor wretch! filled all things with himself, And made all gentle sounds tell back the tale Of his own sorrow) he, and such as he, First named these notes a melancholy strain. And many a poet echoes the conceit; Poet who hath been building up the rhyme...
Page 74 - Ye woodlands all , awake : a boundless song Burst from the groves! and when the restless day, Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela , charm The listening shades, and teach the night his praise.
Page 310 - How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams melt along the silent sea ; For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave tow'rd the burning west, I long to tread that golden path of rays, And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.
Page 78 - Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn...
Page 72 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Page 157 - Tis the merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes; As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music...
Page 68 - The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, When neither is attended ; and, I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.