Immortelles from Charles DickensJ. Moxon, 1856 - 195 страници |
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Често срещани думи и фрази
amidst angels BARNABY RUDGE beautiful Bell better BLEAK HOUSE blessing breast breath bright captive CHARLES DICKENS child cloud comfort compassion creature crowd dark David Copperfield dead dear death Dedlock deep Dickens Dickens's door dusky thrush earth eyes face feel fulness gentle give grace Gradgrind grapes green hand happy happy day hard head hear heart Heaven hill hope human Kate light LITTLE DORRIT living London look Lord Lord Chancellor Marseilles Marshalsea mercies mind moral mother mules narrow nature never NICHOLAS NICKLEBY night OLIVER TWIST pass peace pitiful poet poor pride prison quiet rattle rejoice round Scrooge seemed seilles shade shining side snow Snow Hill soul spirit staring stars stood stream streets sweet sympathy tears things thou thought TINY TIM trees truth Varden walls watching William Howitt wind window worldly
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Страница 49 - ... everywhere. Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping, and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. Fog on the Essex marshes, fog on the Kentish heights. Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs, fog lying out on the yards, and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats.
Страница 156 - It was a town of red brick, or of brick that would have been red if the smoke and ashes had allowed it ; but, as matters stood, it was a town of unnatural red and black, like the painted face of a savage.
Страница 48 - Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots, making a soft black drizzle, with flakes of soot in it as big as fullgrown snowflakes— gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun.
Страница 192 - A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us ! " Which all the family reechoed. "God bless us every one! " said Tiny Tim, the last of all. He sat very close to his father's side, upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him. "Spirit," said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, "tell me if Tiny Tim will live.
Страница 146 - What her pitiful look saw, at that early time, in her father, in her sister, in her brother, in the jail; how much, or how little of the wretched truth it pleased God to make visible to her; lies hidden with many mysteries. It is enough that she was inspired to be something which was not what the rest were, and to be that something, different and laborious, for the sake of the rest.
Страница 188 - The boy stirred, and smiled in his sleep, as though these marks of pity and compassion had awakened some pleasant dream of a love and affection he had never known.
Страница 139 - There the wicked cease from troubling ; And there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together ; They hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there ; And the servant is free from his master.
Страница 142 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, Lone as the corse within its shroud, Lone as a solitary cloud, — A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Страница 132 - Hindoos, Russians, Chinese, Spaniards, Portuguese, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Genoese, Neapolitans, Venetians, Greeks, Turks, descendants from all the builders of Babel, come to trade at Marseilles, sought the shade alike, — taking refuge in any hidingplace from a sea too intensely blue to be looked at, and a sky of purple, set with one great flaming jewel of fire.
Страница 188 - The beings of the mind are not of clay; Essentially immortal, they create And multiply in us a brighter ray And more beloved existence: that which Fate Prohibits to dull life, in this our state Of mortal bondage, by these spirits supplied, First exiles, then replaces what we hate; Watering the heart whose early flowers have died, And with a fresher growth replenishing the void.