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able affection allowed already answer appeared asked beautiful began believe bound called Captain Foy certainly CHAPTER consent considered course cousin delight expression eyes face feared feeling felt friends future gave girl give hand happiness hear heard heart hope hour keep kind knew Lady Harewood leave less letter light live London look Macnaghten Madeline manner marriage matter means mind Miss morning mother nature nearly never night once pain passed person poor position present promised quiet received Reginald remember rest Rome seemed sense Sir Anthony sisters soon spirit strong sure talk tell things thought Tiny Tiny's tion told took true turn walked week whole wife Wilfred Lane Wilfred's winter wishes wonderful write young
Pagina 27 - Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints...
Pagina 40 - Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Pagina 63 - And even since, and now, fair Italy ! Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature (') can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste ; More rich than other climes' fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
Pagina 121 - BETTER trust all, and be deceived. And weep that trust and that deceiving, Than doubt one heart that if believed Had blessed one's life with true believing.
Pagina 149 - Ah me! for aught that ever I could read. Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But, either it was different in blood; Her.
Pagina 40 - 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.
Pagina 118 - Though they bloom and look gay like the rose; Yet all our fond care to preserve them is vain, Time kills them as fast as he goes. Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty, Since both of them wither and fade; But gain a good name by well doing my duty, This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.