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Updated: May 24, 2025
"I see the fountains, and the gardens where You sang the fury from the Satrap's brow; I feel the quiver of the raptured air I heard you in the Athenian grove I hear you now." As the words flashed into her mind now she looked at her husband steadfastly. Were there, then, some unexplored regions in his nature, where things dwelt, of which she had no glimmering of knowledge?
Rollin is so elegant, don't yew?" said Mrs. Barlow. "Oh, yes; I think he's so genteel!" "I don't think so at all," said Lovell. "I don't, certainly. I don't think so." "He ain't got much voice;" said Mrs. Barlow, clasping her hands in raptured appreciation of her matchless Lovell.
His Handel is in a state of exceeding perturbation: his clothes in staring disorder, his hair floating in the breeze. The intention was to represent the composer in the act of raptured meditation upon music; but, as Allan Cunningham remarks, he looks much more like a man alarmed at an apparition. But then this exaggeration of demeanour was very much the artist's own manner in actual life.
"Are you content to be a young lady amateur who plays well enough to entertain her friends in her own drawing-room, or do you mean to work seriously, and make a first-rate performer? You can do as you like. You have the talent. It is for yourself to decide." Norah's face was a study in its raptured excitement. "Oh-oh!" she cried breathlessly, "I'll work I don't care how hard I work!
Never a ship with a silken sail could rock thee over across the waves so well as I will waft thee there on the swell of this soft breast. Never a breeze from the sandal hill could ferry thee over a silent sea so gently as will I, by breathing into thy raptured ear tales of thy old forgotten past with fond and fragrant lips. What! art thou still oblivious of that old delicious birth?
My bosom heaves, remembering yet The morning of that blissful day When Rose, the flower of spring, I met, And gave my raptured soul away. Flung from her eyes of purest blue, A lasso, with its leaping chain Light as a loop of larkspurs, flew O'er sense and spirit, heart and brain. Thou com'st to cheer my waning age, Sweet vision, waited for so long!
At such moments Ellen, with her velvety golden-brown eyes, and the bronze of her hair, was like the poet's 'Cluster of Nuts. I've heard the songs by Liffey's wave That maidens sung. They sang their land, the Saxon's slave, In Saxon tongue. Oh, bring me here that Gaelic dear Which cursed the Saxon foe. When thou didst charm my raptured ear Mo craoibhin cno!
"To us this star or that seems bright, And oft some headlong meteor's flight Holds for awhile our raptured sight. "But he discerns each noble star; The least is only the most far, Whose worlds, may be, the mightiest are."
What vision glads my raptured eye! Equal in nature's blooming pride, I see the mother and the virgin bride. Oh, luckless hour! Alas! ill-fated maid! Where shall I fly From these rude warlike men? Lost and betrayed!
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