Dermot O'Brien, Or, The Taking of Tredagh: A Tale of 1649 |
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aged answered arms believe better castle cause close Colonel cousin dark deep Dermot door doubt earl Ellinor enemy entered eyes face fall Father fear feet fell fire Florence Desmond followed foot force give glance half hand head hear heard heart heavy hill hold honor horse hour Hugh O'Neil instant iron keep king lady least less light living looked lord lower mother Murtough never night noble O'Brien once orders passed person priest Puritans raised reached replied rest returned round scarce seemed seen shout side sound speak spoke standing step stood strange stream sure sword tell thee things thou thought tidings Torlogh traitor Tredagh true trust truth turned voice walls weapons whole wild young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 94 - Then bugle's note and cannon's roar the death-like silence broke, And with one start, and with one cry, the royal city woke.
Pàgina 95 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Pàgina 41 - A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command ; And yet a Spirit still, and bright With something of an angel 13 light. XV.— I WANDERED LONELY. 1804. I WANDERED lonely as a cloud...
Pàgina 137 - God ! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood...
Pàgina 137 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind, And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb...
Pàgina 26 - DAY set on Norham's castled steep,* And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone : The battled towers, the donjon keep,* The loophole grates, where captives weep, The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
Pàgina 137 - I've seen the sick and ghastly bed Of Sin delirious with its dread: But these were horrors — this was woe Unmix'd with such — but sure and slow. He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind, And grieved for those he left behind...
Informació bibliogràfica
| Títol | Dermot O'Brien, Or, The Taking of Tredagh: A Tale of 1649 American Fiction, 1774-1920 Volum 1 de Wright American fiction |
| Autor | Henry William Herbert |
| Editor | Stringer & Townsend, 1849 |
| Original de | Biblioteca Pública de Nova York |
| Digitalitzat el | 31 Oct. 2006 |
| Nre. de pàgines | 166 pàgines |
| Exporta citacions | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |