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At times it will ripple all day, agog with smiling; anon, provoked by an idle breeze's banter, you shall see it black with rage. In the morning, maybe, it will sleep placidly enough in the sunshine, but at eventide the wind has ruffled its temper, so that it mutters and heaves with anger, breathing forth threatenings.

Her grasp round me slackened, and she sunk entranced on my bosom, while Frank and I responded to her call, and a few frantic heaves on both our parts served to cause our rivers of delight to flow into her where, mingling with her own flood, they somewhat served to calm our overexcited senses.

The boat was a moving earthquake by this time: "How is she now?" "A hundred and ninety-six and still a-swelling! water, below the middle gauge-cocks! carrying every pound she can stand! nigger roosting on the safety-valve!" "Good! How's your draft?" "Bully! Every time a nigger heaves a stick of wood into the furnace he goes out the chimney, with it!"

"We would, too, if there were anything further that could be looked into. But there isn't. I'm going to stop and smoke until the launch heaves in sight." Both policemen threw themselves on the ground, produced pipes and fell to smoking. But Bert Dodge, with the restlessness of keen distress, continued to stumble on up and down along the bank, flashing the lantern everywhere.

You're free you live I have you back again! KING. Yes, I am free I am so at this price! SOREL. Johanna! God! she's dying! BURGUNDY. She is gone An angel passeth hence! See, how she lies, Easy and tranquil, like a sleeping child! The peace of heaven around her features plays, The breath of life no longer heaves her breast, But vital warmth still lingers in her hand. KING. She's gone!

Now what he said lay in no great compass and may be summed in smaller still; especially as people know the chief part of it already. Then after awhile, the vague endless ocean, having retired and lain still without a breeze or murmur, frets and heaves again with impulse, or with lashes laid on it, and in one great surge advances over every rampart.

The tear naturally starts in our eye on the apprehension of a warm sentiment of this nature: our breast heaves, our heart is agitated, and every humane tender principle of our frame is set in motion, and gives us the purest and most satisfactory enjoyment.

It is Saturday night; the swell of the Hudson lazily heaves against the shores of Tappan Zee, the cliff above Tarrytown where the white lady cries on winter nights is pale in starlight, and crickets chirp in the boskage. It is so still that the lap of oars can be heard coming across the water at least a mile away.

A haunter of swamps and river marshes all his life, he had never yet observed how the night bittern made its booming or pumping sound, but accepted the explanation of one of his neighbors that it was produced by the bird thrusting its bill in water, sucking up as much as it could hold, and then pumping it out again with four or five heaves of the neck, throwing the water two or three feet in fact, turning itself into a veritable pump!

Inimitable! Divine, Romano! And that white, dazzling breast, that heaves with the last pulse of life. Draw more such beauties, Romano, and I will give up Nature to worship thy creative fancy. BOURGOGNINO. Is it thus, Verrina, your hopes are answered? VERRINA. Take courage, son! The Almighty has rejected the arm of FIESCO. Upon ours he must rely. Well 'tis your last work, Romano.