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arms Aunt Fanny Avignon Bagginal beautiful Caron carriage Charlie Bolsover child Colonel Dymond coming Crowbeck dear Dermy door dress eau de Cologne eyes face father feeling felt flowers followed garden George Tyson girl glad gone hand happy heard heart hurried husband Josselin knew lady laughing letter light little Phraisie looked looking-glass Louvre Madame du Pare Mademoiselle Fayard mamma Marney Marney's Max du Pare Mikey mind Miss Bolsover Miss Tempy Monsieur morning mother Neuilly never night once pale pale saints papa Paris passed poor round says Tempy scarcely seemed shining silent sitting smiling speak spoke standing stepmother stood strange street suddenly sunshine Susanna Susy Susy's sweet talking Tarndale tears tell Tempy's things thought Tuileries gardens turned Uncle Bolsover Velocipede villa voice waiting walked wife window woman wondered young
Page 500 - There is neither speech nor language : but their voices are heard among them. Their sound is gone out into all lands : and their words into the ends of the world.
Page 509 - O'Malley did not say that he had salvaged a Spanish galleon wrecked beneath the rocks on which Castle O'Malley was built, and that in consequence he had more money than he knew what to do with. And I missed nothing from my pocket.
Page 14 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.
Page 260 - I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope through darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Page 105 - Touch us gently, Time ! Let us glide adown thy stream Gently, — as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream ! Humble voyagers are We, Husband, wife, and children three — (One is lost, — an angel, fled To the azure overhead ! ) Touch us gently, Time! We've not proud nor soaring wings : Our ambition, our content Lies in simple things. Humble voyagers are We, O'er Life's dim unsounded sea, Seeking only some calm clime : — Touch us gently, gentle Time...
Page 381 - Bounded by themselves, and unregardful In what state God's other works may be, In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see.