No Second SpringFrederick A. Stokes Company, 1933 - 304 pagine |
Dall'interno del libro
Risultati 1-3 di 23
Pagina 73
... mountains at the head of the loch . The Manse stood up the glen , a good half - mile from the sea's edge . The road wound slowly upwards , the steeps of Scurr Dubh on the right and Ben Buie jutting angrily into the heavens on the left ...
... mountains at the head of the loch . The Manse stood up the glen , a good half - mile from the sea's edge . The road wound slowly upwards , the steeps of Scurr Dubh on the right and Ben Buie jutting angrily into the heavens on the left ...
Pagina 103
... mountains are God's work , but they have no soul . True they remain , whereas we pass , " he continued after a moment's thought , " but they remain soul- less ; we pass on into a life immortal . Their permanence is as nothing to our ...
... mountains are God's work , but they have no soul . True they remain , whereas we pass , " he continued after a moment's thought , " but they remain soul- less ; we pass on into a life immortal . Their permanence is as nothing to our ...
Pagina 261
... mountains . They were perpetually straining away from the sea as though they were afraid . There was snow on the mountain tops very early , and great swirling banks of mist came hurrying down the slopes and then settled furtively in the ...
... mountains . They were perpetually straining away from the sea as though they were afraid . There was snow on the mountain tops very early , and great swirling banks of mist came hurrying down the slopes and then settled furtively in the ...
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Alex Allison sat Andrew Simon baby beautiful began Bella Ben Buie beneath blue boat Book of Job brain Buie candle canna cheeks child clouds cold Coolins corner creeping crofters crofts damp dark dear door doorway drew eager Edinburgh face fear feel feet felt fichu filled fingers fire Gaelic gazed gently glance gleaming glen Glenlee gloaming grey eyes hair Hamish hand head heard Highland hills Hougoumont hurried Jean knew light looked Lord lowland Scot Mama Manse McLellan mind minister mist moved never night once Papa parlour peats psalm Quatre Bras quietly Renfrewshire road rose round rowlocks seaweed seemed shadow shone shoulder side silence sleep slowly smiled snow soft sound spirit spoke stirred stone stood strange stretched suddenly tall black tears things thought tiny trembling turned uncon voice weary wind window