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Updated: June 6, 2025


Good-night." And with that the conqueror went to sleep as peacefully as a little child. Had Bonaparte now returned to France he would have saved himself much misery. King of fire though he had become in the eyes of the vanquished, his bed was far from being one of roses. "In a climate like that," he observed, sadly, many years after, "I'd rather have been an ice baron.

Old Pendennis started up on the entrance of the young lady. His slumbers were easily broken. He made her a gallant speech he had been full of gallantry towards her of late. Where had she been gathering those roses which she wore on her cheeks? How happy he was to be disturbed out of his dreams by such a charming reality!

She did not make an elaborate toilette; a cotton dressing gown, a pretty lace cap, a lawn kerchief, that was all, but how the simple dress was lighted by the roses of her cheeks! We were quick over our breakfast, we were in a hurry, and when we had done I shut the door and we gave ourselves over to the enjoyment of our bliss.

And her eyes glowed with passion, and mystery, and force. Paul knelt like a courtier, and kissed her hand. Then he led her to their feast. Dmitry raised the curtain of the loggia door as they approached, and what a sight met Paul's view! The whole place had been converted into a bower of roses. The walls were entirely covered with them.

It had an overrun little garden in front, separated from the fields by a riotous hedge of sweetbriar. It had a few orange, and lemon, and peach trees on its west side, the survivors of what had once been intended for an orchard, and a line of pepper trees on the other, between it and the road. Neglected roses and a huge wistaria clambered over its dilapidated face.

The night was very warm and very still, and upon the quietude stole a sound softer, yet more insistent than the whisper of wind among leaves, a soothing, murmurous sound that seemed to make the pervading quiet but the more complete. "How cool the brook sounds!" sighed the Duchess at last, "and the perfume of the roses, oh dear me, how delicious!

King Henry V. restored Hotspur's son, the second Earl, to his family honours, and the Percies were staunch Lancastrians during the Wars of the Roses which followed, the third Earl and three of his brothers losing their lives in the cause. The fifth Earl was a gorgeous person whose magnificence equalled, almost, that of royalty.

They all looked as if they had been short sleeves; one was green, with purple and gold flowers as large as roses; another was pink, what is called clouded with blue, green, and violet: and the third was dove-colour, with running stripes of satin.

It sang about the quiet churchyard, when the roses bloom, where the elder flower scents the air, and where the fresh grass is ever moistened anew by the tears of the mourner. This song brought to Death a longing for his own garden, and, like a cold grey mist, he passed out of the window. 'Thanks, thanks! said the emperor; 'you heavenly little bird, I know you!

"My roses are white," it answered; "as white as the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon the mountain. But go to my brother who grows round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you what you want." So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that was growing round the old sun-dial. "Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing you my sweetest song."

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