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Página 23
... trees of its walled park ; each turret with its high conical roof of gray slate , like a candle with an extinguisher on it . " To whom does that chateau belong , friend ? " cried my uncle to a meagre but fiery postilion , who , with ...
... trees of its walled park ; each turret with its high conical roof of gray slate , like a candle with an extinguisher on it . " To whom does that chateau belong , friend ? " cried my uncle to a meagre but fiery postilion , who , with ...
Página 66
... trees , I caught a reflection of this accursed visage in the pane of glass , as though it were staring through the window at me . Even the reflection of it was thrilling . How was this vile nervous fit , for such I now persuaded my ...
... trees , I caught a reflection of this accursed visage in the pane of glass , as though it were staring through the window at me . Even the reflection of it was thrilling . How was this vile nervous fit , for such I now persuaded my ...
Página 102
... trees at the foot of the mountain . As long as day lasted I gazed and gazed upon it , till it lessened and lessened to a mere white speck in the distance ; and still my intense and fixed gaze discerned it , when all other objects of the ...
... trees at the foot of the mountain . As long as day lasted I gazed and gazed upon it , till it lessened and lessened to a mere white speck in the distance ; and still my intense and fixed gaze discerned it , when all other objects of the ...
Página 112
... Alas ! the shrieks of Bianca rung for ever in my ears . The horrible countenance of my victim was for ever before my eyes . The blood of Filippo cried to me from the ground . Rocks , trees , and torrents , all 112 TALES OF A TRAVELLER .
... Alas ! the shrieks of Bianca rung for ever in my ears . The horrible countenance of my victim was for ever before my eyes . The blood of Filippo cried to me from the ground . Rocks , trees , and torrents , all 112 TALES OF A TRAVELLER .
Página 113
Washington Irving. ground . Rocks , trees , and torrents , all resounded with my crime . Then it was I felt how much more insupportable is the anguish of remorse than every other mental pang . Oh ! could I but have cast off this crime ...
Washington Irving. ground . Rocks , trees , and torrents , all resounded with my crime . Then it was I felt how much more insupportable is the anguish of remorse than every other mental pang . Oh ! could I but have cast off this crime ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Abruzzi adventure Alderman Apennines beauty beheld Bianca bosom Buckthorne burgher buried captain carbine carriage chamber companions countenance cried daugh daughter delight devil divining rod door doubt dress Dutch Englishman eyes face fancy father feel fellow felt Fondi fortune Frosinone gave gazed Genoa ghost hand haunted head heard heart horse improvisatore inquisitive gentleman Iron John Jack Straw Kidd kind knew laugh length literary looked Marquis mind mountains Naples neighborhood never night once passed paused Peechy Prauw Pelasgian pistol poetical poetry poniard poor Popkins postilions Prossedi recollect replied returned robbers rocks round scene Schiedam seemed seen skiff stiletto story strange talk tell Terracina theatre thing thought tion Tom Walker took town travellers trees turned Tusculum uncle village voice walked Webber whole window Wolfert wonder young lady
Pasajes populares
Página 161 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny ; You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face, You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve : Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Página 230 - ... true sympathy; how few love us for ourselves; how few will befriend us in our misfortunes; then it is that we think of the mother we have lost. It is true I had always loved my mother, even in my most heedless days; but I felt how inconsiderate and ineffectual had been my love. My heart melted as I retraced the days of infancy, when I was led by a mother's hand, and rocked to sleep in a mother's arms, and was without care or sorrow. "O my mother!
Página 363 - Now I remember those old women's words, Who in my wealth would tell me winter's tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where treasure hath been hid...
Página xi - There is a certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse! As I have often found in travelling in a stagecoach, that it is often a comfort to shift one's position, and be bruised in a new place.