Showing: 2471-2480 results of 23918

CHAPTER I. LANDLORD'S DAUGHTER AND TENANT'S SON. In a kitchen of moderate size, flagged with slate, humble in its appointments, yet looking scarcely that of a farmhouse—for there were utensils about it indicating necessities more artificial than usually grow upon a farm—with the corner of a white deal table between them, sat two young people evidently different in rank, and meeting upon... more...

INDUCTION The end of a saloon in an old-fashioned country house (Florence Towers, the property of Count O'Dowda) has been curtained off to form a stage for a private theatrical performance. A footman in grandiose Spanish livery enters before the curtain, on its O.P. side. FOOTMAN. [announcing] Mr Cecil Savoyard. [Cecil Savoyard comes in: a middle-aged man in evening dress and a fur-lined overcoat.... more...

CHAPTER I A Misty evening in mid-October; a top room in one of the small dingy houses on the north side of Moon Street, its floor partially covered with pieces of drugget carpet trodden into rags; for furniture, an iron bed placed against the wall, a deal cupboard or wardrobe, a broken iron cot in a corner, a wooden box and three or four chairs, and a small square deal table; on the table one candle in... more...

by: Tibullus
PREFACE Albius Tibullus was a Roman gentleman, whose father fought on Pompey's side. The precise dates of his birth and death are in doubt, and what we know of his life is all in his own poems; except that Horace condoles with him about Glycera, and Apuleius says Delia's real name was Plautia. Horace paid him this immortal compliment: (Epist. 4 bk. I). "Albi nostrorum sermonum candide... more...

ARTHUR and ALBINA. Ah me! the yellow western sky turns pale, And leaves the cheerless sons of earth to mourn; And yet I hear net in the silent vale, A sound to tell me Arthur does return.   Ah, haste ye hours! quick plume the loit'ring wing! Bring back my hero, crown'd with glorious spoils! Let bards on lofty harps his triumphs sing, And loud applause repay successful toils!   Reward the... more...

To some the eighteenth-century definition of proper poetic matter is unacceptable; but to any who believe that true poetry may (if not "must") consist in "what oft was thought but ne'er so well expressed," Gray's "Churchyard" is a majestic achievement—perhaps (accepting the definition offered) the supreme achievement of its century. Its success, so the great critic... more...

"Would you mind repeating that?" "I said, sir, that Mr. Friden said, sir, that he sees a city." "A city?" "Yes sir." Captain Webber rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek. "You realize, of course, that that is impossible?" "Yes sir." "Send Mr. Friden in to see me, at once." The young man saluted and rushed out of the room. He returned with a... more...

Good people all,with one accord,Lament forMadam Blaize,Who never wanteda good word—From thosewho spoke her praise. The needy seldom pass’d her door,And always found her kind;She freely lent to all the poor—Who lefta pledge behind. She strove the neighbourhood to pleaseWith manners wondrous winning;And never follow’d wicked ways—Unless when she was sinning.At church, in silks and satins... more...

Hector Macintosh was a young man about five-and-twenty, who, with the proclivities of the Celt, inherited also some of the consequent disabilities, as well as some that were accidental. Among the rest was a strong tendency to regard only the ideal, and turn away from any authority derived from an inferior source. His chief delight lay in the attempt to embody, in what seemed to him the natural form of... more...

BETSEY AND I ARE OUT. Draw up the papers, lawyer, and make 'em good and stout;For things at home are crossways, and Betsey and I are out.We, who have worked together so long as man and wife,Must pull in single harness for the rest of our nat'ral life. "What is the matter?" say you. I swan it's hard to tell!Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well;I have no other... more...