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Updated: June 2, 2025


"A rose in the bud that's Rosemary," said Winnie who scorned to read poetry and often employed poetical fancies in her rather quaint phrasing. "A rose in the bud and a flower of a girl. A temper that blazes, a quick pride that bleeds at a word and a passion for loving that sometimes frightens me. The sick and the helpless and the young Rosemary would mother 'em all.

And again, "My heart bleeds for him, but I can do nothing to help him: I have stuck by him till I have much hurt myself; I can do so no longer; my family calls for my care to provide for them." The later years of Dr. Roebuck's life were spent in comparative obscurity; and he died in 1794, in his 76th year.

"How did you get him off?" asked James. "I had the whip, and Aaron came in just then with that damned mare. She had balked. I don't think it is the jugular. It can't be. Damn it, how he bleeds! Run into the office, Elliot, and get the absorbent cotton and the brandy. I've got to stop this somehow. Oh, my God!"

Leave me, I beseech you, this moment. 'Do not, says he, 'impose so harsh a command upon me. My heart bleeds faster than those lips. O Sophia, how easily could I drain my veins to preserve one drop of that dear blood. 'I have too many obligations to you already, answered she, 'for sure you meant them such.

"I am not thinking of my words," said I. "My heart bleeds for you, Miss Drummond. Whatever I may say, be sure you have my pity in your difficult position. But there is just the one thing that I wish you would bear in view, if it was only long enough to discuss it quietly; for there is going to be a collieshangie when we two get home.

Remembering your kindness to me, my heart bleeds for you. I write this with the deepest sorrow, but it may be less painful for you to learn of your loss in this way than to be tortured by a rumour, the truth of which you cannot prove. Accept my heartfelt sympathy." "My father is dead, Felix," I said in a dazed manner. "He fought a good fight," replied my comrade.

Evan," Martha said one day, when, judging by the contents of the station 'bus and baggage wagon, almost the entire Ponsonby house staff must have left at a swoop; "my eyes fairly bleeds for poor Mrs. 'Twas bad enough in the old country, where we knew our places, even though some was ambitioned to get out of them; but here it's like blind man's buff, and enough to turn a body giddy. Mrs.

But now I come to speak of my disaster, Contention grown, 'twixt Subjects and their Master; They worded it so long, they fell to blows, That thousands lay on heaps, here bleeds my woes; I that no wars so many years have known, Am now destroy'd and slaughter'd by mine own; But could the Field alone this strife decide, One Battle two or three I might abide.

How bleeds my heart! The Holiest stands before the judgement seat. The malice of sinners he must bear, Betrayed and outraged, bound and beaten there. O, sons of men, your faces veil this day! The scarred form is touched by impious hands, From Annas dragged to Caiaphas away, What's here foreshadowed, see, fulfilled it stands. See Jesus, how in silence he Bears outrage, blows and mockery!

"He condemned and discharged my stepson for the sin of another. Now it is his own heart that bleeds." Only a few steps from his own door the broker met a boy about two years older than Herbert, with whom the latter sometimes played. "Harvey," he said, "have you seen Herbert this afternoon?" "Yes, sir; I saw him about three o'clock." "Where?" asked the broker, anxiously.

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