Helen Cameron: from grub to butterfly, by the author of 'Mary Stanley'.

الغلاف الأمامي
Chapman and Hall, 1872

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الصفحة 174 - Intreat 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 ought but death part thee and me.
الصفحة 146 - But when they deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye shall speak: for it shall be given you in that same hour what ye shall speak. For it is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in you.
الصفحة 67 - Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe...
الصفحة 95 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
الصفحة 26 - And her fair locks were woven up in gold ; She always smil'd, and in her hand did hold An holy-water sprinkle dipt in dew, With which she sprinkled favours manifold On whom she list, and did great liking shew, Great liking unto many, but true love to few.
الصفحة 144 - Then said Saul to his servant, But, behold, if we go, what shall we bring the man ? for the bread is spent in our vessels, and there is not a present to bring to the man of God: what have we?
الصفحة 144 - But Peter said unto him ; Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of God may be purchased with money.
الصفحة 176 - tis the soul of peace : Of all the virtues, 'tis nearest kin to heaven ; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e'er wore earth about him, was a sufferer; A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit : The first true gentleman, that ever breathed.
الصفحة 246 - Thief, still more silently, sets-to his picklocks and crowbars, or lurks in wait till the watchmen first snore in their boxes. Gay mansions, with supper-rooms and dancingrooms, are full of light and music, and high-swelling hearts ; but, in the condemned cells, the pulse of life beats tremulous and faint, and blood-shot eyes look out through the darkness, which is around and within, for the light of a stern, last morning.

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