The Vicar of Wakefield

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Scholartis Press, 1928 - 243 pages

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Page 120 - She complied in a manner so exquisitely pathetic as moved me. When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray ; What charm can sooth her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die.
Page 1 - Alas ! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay ; And those who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. ' And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep ; A shade that follows wealth or fame, And leaves the wretch to weep...
Page 4 - Turn, Angelina, ever dear, My charmer, turn to see Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, Restored to love and thee. " Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And every care resign : And shall we never, never part, My life, — my all that's mine ? " No, never from this hour to part, We'll live and love so true — The sigh that rends thy constant heart Shall break thy Edwin's too.
Page 28 - There again you are wrong, my dear," cried I ; " for though they be copper, we will keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than nothing.
Page xxxiii - THE place of our retreat was in a little neighbourhood, consisting of farmers, who tilled their own grounds, and were equal strangers to opulence and poverty. As they had almost all the conveniences of life within themselves, they seldom visited towns or cities, in search of superfluity. Remote from the polite, they still retained the primaeval simplicity of manners; and frugal by habit, they scarce knew that temperance was a virtue.
Page xxxiii - Our little habitation was situated at the foot of a sloping hill, sheltered with a beautiful underwood behind, and a prattling river before ; on one side a meadow, on the other a green. My farm consisted of about twenty acres of excellent land, having given an hundred pounds for my predecessor's good-will.
Page xii - ... life, that the poorer the guest, the better pleased he ever is with being treated; and as some men gaze with admiration at the colours of a tulip, or the wing of a butterfly, so I was by nature an admirer of happy faces.
Page 28 - no more silver than your sauce-pan." — "And so," returned she, "we have parted with the Colt, and have only got a groce of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases! A murrain take such trumpery. The blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company better." — "There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong, he should not have known them at all.

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