Vandeleur: Or, Animal Magnetism. A Novel ...

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R. Bentley, 1836
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Page 16 - He is an evening reveller who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still, There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil. Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Page 297 - Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes They had not their own lustre, but the look Which is not of the earth; she was become The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts Were combinations of disjointed things; And forms impalpable and unperceived Of others
Page 288 - Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said : "If there's peace to be found in the world, The heart that is humble might hope for it here.
Page 274 - Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD! GOD ! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice ! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds!
Page 133 - Kindly she chides his boyish flights, while he Will for a moment fix'd and pensive be ; And as she trembling speaks, his lively eyes Explore her looks, he listens to her sighs; Charm'd by her voice, th...
Page 119 - Have pity on my sore distress, I scarce can speak for weariness. Stretch forth thy hand, and have no fear, Said Christabel, How earnest thou here ? And the lady, whose voice was faint and sweet, Did thus pursue her answer meet : — My sire is of a noble line, And my name is...
Page 207 - YET do I live! O how shall I sustain This vast unutterable weight of woe ? This worse than hunger, poverty, or pain, Or all the complicated ills below ? She, in whose life my hopes were treasur'd all.
Page 201 - Her spirit's home was in the skies. Yes — for a spirit, pure as hers, Is always pure, even while it errs ; .As sunshine, broken in the rill, Though turn'd astray, is sunshine still...
Page 273 - Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, And mingles both their graces. By degrees, The human blossom blows ; and every day, Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm, The father's lustre and the mother's bloom.
Page 250 - She wound her arms round her neck ; and, hiding her face in her bosom, she gave to the tried friend of her life the particulars of what had passed that day.

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