Classic Books Company, 2001 - 356 страници
Ay, ay, said the Laird, who had sought Mannering for some time, and now joined him, there they go--there go the free-traders--there go Captain Dirk Hatteraick, and the Yungfrauw Hagenslaapen, half Manks, half Dutchman, half devil run out the bowsprit, up mainsail, top and top-gallant sails, royals, and sky-scrapers, and away, --follow who can That fellow, Mr. Mannering, is the terror of all the excise and custom-house cruisers; they can make nothing of him; he drubs them, or he distances them
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affection answered appearance attention auld Bertram better body Brown called CHAPTER character circumstances Colonel daughter Dinmont Dominie door Ellangowan entered expected expressed father fear feelings followed formed fortune gipsy give guest hand head heard heart honour hope horse hour interest Julia Kennedy kind lady Laird land least leave length light live look Lucy Mac-Morlan Mannering Matilda matter means mind Miss morning natural never night object observed occasion once passed perhaps person poor possessed postilion present reader received remained respect returned road round ruins Sampson scene Scotland seemed seen side situation soon sort spirits story stranger supposed sure tell thing thought tion took traveller turned weel wish woman wood young
Страница 152 - Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.
Страница 40 - Twist ye, twine ye ! even so Mingle shades of joy and woe, Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife, In the thread of human life. While the mystic twist is spinning, And the infant's life beginning, Dimly seen through twilight bending, Lo, what varied shapes attending ! Passions wild, and Follies Tain, Pleasures soon exchanged for pain ; Doubt, and Jealousy, and Fear, In the magic dance appear. Now they wax, and now they dwindle, Whirling with the whirling spindle. Twist ye, twine ye ! even so Mingle...
Страница 202 - That weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid, Those ample clasps of solid metal made, The...
Страница 142 - To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the knell of my departed hours : Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood. It is the signal that demands despatch : How much is to be done? My hopes and fears Start up alarm'd, and o'er life's narrow verge Look down — on what ? a fathomless abyss...
Страница 53 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modem instances; And so he plays his part.
Страница 219 - I have six terriers at hame, forbye twa couple of slowhunds, five grews, and a wheen other dogs. There's auld Pepper and auld Mustard, and young Pepper and young Mustard, and little Pepper and little Mustard ; I had them a' regularly entered, first wi' rottens — then wi' stots or weasels — and then wi' the tods and brocks — and now they fear naething that ever cam wi
Страница 77 - Ride your ways," said the gipsy, "ride your ways, Laird of Ellangowan — ride your ways, Godfrey Bertram ! — -This day have ye quenched seven smoking hearths — see if the fire in your ain parlour burn the blither for that. Ye have riven the thack off seven cottar houses — look if your ain roof-tree stand the faster.
Страница 30 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, Or chasms and watery depths; all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.
Страница 142 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?