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The Lady of Glynne. by the Author of 'Margaret and Her Bridesmaids'
Julia Cecilia Stretton
No preview available - 2016
admired already answered appeared arms asked aunt beautiful become began better called Captain Forest CHAPTER child colour course dear death door exclaimed eyes face fact father fear feel felt gave girl give given Graham guardian half hand happy hear heard heart heaven hope hour Isabel keep kind kingdom kissed knew Lady Maria laughed leave live look mamma manner matter mean mind Miss Glynne Miss Seymour morning Moss mother nature Neale Nellie never once papa Perhaps person poor pretty queen rest returned ride round seemed Selina situation smiled soft speak spirit story strange sure tears tell Thank thing thought told took true turned uncle voice whole wish woman wonder young lady
Page 250 - And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling.
Page 209 - The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow ; She draws her favours to the lowest ebb : Her tides have equal times to come and go ; Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web; No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
Page 10 - As the sun, Ere it is risen, sometimes paints its image In the atmosphere, so often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events. And in today already walks tomorrow.
Page 170 - Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray ? Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess The might, the majesty of Loveliness?
Page 262 - My son, be this thy simple plan : Serve God, and love thy brother man ; Forget not, in temptation's hour, That sin lends sorrow double power; Count life a stage upon thy way, And follow conscience, come what may; Alike; with earth and heaven sincere, With hand and brow and bosom clear, "Fear God, and know no other fear.
Page 176 - tis the supreme of power; 'Tis might half slumbering on its own right arm: The very archings of her eyelids charm A thousand willing agents to obey, And still she governs with the mildest sway...