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He tried not to look at it; but it would be looked at, and threaten him in the moonlight, with great lack-lustre eyes.
Our lack-lustre eyes and parched lips showed what we most needed, and at last some of the crew brought us some water in a bowl, which speedily revived us, while others came with a mixture of soup and beans. I never ate anything I thought so delicious, in spite of its being redolent of garlic, and containing no small quantity of grease.
My Lords Elchies and Kilkerran walked on either side of him Kilkerran with the lack-lustre eye of the passionate mathematician, the studious moralist devoted to midnight oil, a ruddy, tall, sturdy man, well filling the crimson and white silk gown; Elchies, a shrivelled atomy with a hirpling walk, leaning heavily upon a rattan, both with the sinister black tri-corne hats in their hands, and flanked by a company of musketeers.
No desire, no joy, no grief, nothing was expressed by her handsome face with its turned-up nose and its dimples. So a beautiful fountain expresses nothing when it is not playing. But at last she had finished a sack. She flung it aside, and, stretching luxuriously, rested her motionless, lack-lustre eyes on the window.
See him as night falls, plodding onwards through the crowded thoroughfares of the great city; his lack-lustre eye glazed and filmy; his pale face and blue lip actually corpse-like in their ghastliness. He gazes at the passers-by with the vacant stare of idiotcy.
With a rather lack-lustre eye he noticed the amusement of his friends at his last vagary; but when Winifred Ames entered the ballroom a nervous vivacity shook him, as it has shaken ploughmen under similar conditions, and for just a moment he felt ill at ease in the lonely lunacy of his flowered waistcoat and olive-green knee-breeches.
Afterward Mabyn dragged the bench a relic of the former tenant, and sole article of furniture they possessed outside the door; and sat upon it, smoking, yawning, looking across the lake with lack-lustre eyes. Rina having redd up the shack, came to the doorway, where she stood looking at him wistfully. Finally she hovered toward him and retreated; and her hands stole to her breast.
And the worn and pallid landlord gazed back at him with his faded, lack-lustre eyes eyes that we both understood, alas eyes made dull with years of fear, made old and hopeless with unshed tears, stupid from sleepless nights, haunted with memories of all they had looked upon since His Excellency marched out of the city to the south of us, where the red rag now fluttered on fort and shipping from King's Bridge to the Hook.
It was an orra and remarkable gathering, convened surely by the trickery of a fantastic and vagabond providence, "not a great many, but well picked," as Mac-gregor the Mottled said of his band of thieves. Over this notable congregation presided the man of the house none of your fat and genial-looking gentlemen, but a long lean personage with a lack-lustre eye.
Have you eyes to find the five Which five hundred did survive?" In the verses which follow we learn that the five immortal poets referred to are Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Swedenborg, and Goethe. And now, in the Essay we have just been looking at, I find that "his books have no melody, no emotion, no humor, no relief to the dead prosaic level. We wander forlorn in a lack-lustre landscape.
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