Arthur, or, A knight of our own day, by the author of 'Alice Godolphin'.

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Chapman & Hall, 1876
 

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Page 208 - Life," he said; And ere I answered, passing out of sight, On his celestial embassy he sped. 'Twas at thy door, O friend! and not at mine, The angel with the amaranthine wreath, Pausing, descended, and with voice divine, Whispered a word that had a sound like Death. Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, A shadow on those features fair and thin ; And softly, from that hushed and darkened room, Two angels issued, where but one went in.
Page 116 - My knees are bowed in crypt and shrine; I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer A virgin heart in work and will.
Page 41 - The rein with dainty finger-tips, A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.
Page 122 - No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.— Here comes Beatrice : By this day, she's a fair lady : I do spy some marks of love in her.
Page 171 - My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.
Page 244 - WHY should we faint and fear to live alone, Since all alone, so Heaven has will'd, we die,* Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh...
Page 224 - It is the little rift within the lute, That by-and-by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
Page 242 - With shining ringlets the smooth ivory neck. Love in these labyrinths his slaves detains, And mighty hearts are held in slender chains. With hairy springes we the birds betray, Slight lines of hair surprise the finny prey, Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, And beauty draws us with a single hair.
Page 103 - And mistress of herself, though china fall. And yet believe me, good as well as ill, Woman's at best a contradiction still. Heaven, when it strives to polish all it can Its last best work, but forms a softer man ; Picks from each sex to make the...
Page 86 - If to her share some female errors fall ' Look in her face and you'll forget them all.

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