Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 7Harper's Magazine Company, 1913 - American literature |
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Page 83
... look not to motives , but to money , in return for their wares . no better nor no worse than one who keeps ac- counts in a ledger , or follows any other occupa- tion . Let us , however , give him credit for the good , at least , which ...
... look not to motives , but to money , in return for their wares . no better nor no worse than one who keeps ac- counts in a ledger , or follows any other occupa- tion . Let us , however , give him credit for the good , at least , which ...
Page 93
... looks behind him often , to assure himself that Jo is still really following . But , look where he will , he still beholds him close to the op- posite houses , making his way with his wary hand from brick to brick and from door to door ...
... looks behind him often , to assure himself that Jo is still really following . But , look where he will , he still beholds him close to the op- posite houses , making his way with his wary hand from brick to brick and from door to door ...
Page 95
... Look here , Jo ! " says Allan . " This is Mr. George . " Jo searches the floor for some time longer , then looks up for a moment , and then down again . " He is a kind friend to you , for he is going to give you lodging - room here ...
... Look here , Jo ! " says Allan . " This is Mr. George . " Jo searches the floor for some time longer , then looks up for a moment , and then down again . " He is a kind friend to you , for he is going to give you lodging - room here ...
Page 96
... looks sideways at Allan's sun- burnt cheek and bright dark eye , rapidly mea- sures his height and build , and seems ... look at ? " " I think I know that much of him . I mean to deal with . Generally , what kind of man ? " his own hands ...
... looks sideways at Allan's sun- burnt cheek and bright dark eye , rapidly mea- sures his height and build , and seems ... look at ? " " I think I know that much of him . I mean to deal with . Generally , what kind of man ? " his own hands ...
Page 97
... look round , " as early in the evening not to put too fine a point upon it - that I never as he can manage it quietly . He looks round saw you before , sir . " very quietly , when the evening comes ; but it " Twice before , " says Allan ...
... look round , " as early in the evening not to put too fine a point upon it - that I never as he can manage it quietly . He looks round saw you before , sir . " very quietly , when the evening comes ; but it " Twice before , " says Allan ...
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Common terms and phrases
American animals appeared arms army Austria Bagnet beautiful better body Bucket called Charles IV child Cuzco Danube dear door Emperor England English eyes face father feel feet fire France Frémont French gentleman George girl give ground hand head heard heart Hester honor horse Horseshoe Fall hour huacas hundred Inca Indians islands JOHN S. C. ABBOTT kind king Lady Dedlock look Lord John Russell Mabel Manco Capac ment miles mind Monticello morning mother mountain Napoleon never night noble Pachacamac palace passed peace Peru Peruvians poor present Prince returned river rocks Russia scene seemed side Sir Leicester Dedlock smile soon Spain Spanish spirit stone teetotal tell thing thought thousand tion took town troops turned vessel voice walls whole woman words young
Popular passages
Page 2 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 357 - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Page 1 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 4 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?
Page 6 - Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth. And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 6 - THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frowned not on his humble birth, And melancholy marked him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, . Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to misery all he had, a tear: He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.
Page 5 - E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, — Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn...
Page 331 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow. We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow...
Page 331 - We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning.
Page 2 - Await alike the inevitable hour; The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.