The novels of Charles Lever.
Book Description
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897. Excerpt: ... more graceful tracery, and forms more purely elegant, than the real metal? I have said that I slept! and, as I lay, dreams came over me--dreams of that long-past time, when the few shadows ...
MoreThis historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1897. Excerpt: ... more graceful tracery, and forms more purely elegant, than the real metal? I have said that I slept! and, as I lay, dreams came over me--dreams of that long-past time, when the few shadows that fell over my path in life were rather spots where, like the traveller on a sunny road, one halts to breathe awhile, and taste in the cool shade the balmy influence of repose. I thought of Blanche, too, as first I had seen her, and when first she taught my heart to feel the ecstasy of loving, breathing into my nature high hopes and longings, and making of life itself an ideal of delight and happiness. And, as I dreamed, there stole over my senses a faint, thrilling memory of that young joy my heart had known, and a feeling like that of health and ardent buoyancy, which for years long I had not experienced. Her voice, tremulous with feeling, vibrating in all the passionate expression of an Italian song, was in my ears--I could hear the words--my very heart throbbed to their soft syllables as she sung the lines of Metastasio--'E tu, qui sa si te Ti sovrerai di me.' I started--there she was before me, bending over the harp, whose cords still trembled with the dying sounds; the same Blanche I had known and loved, but slightly changed indeed; more beautiful perhaps in womanhood than as a girl. Her long and silky hair fell over her white wrist and taper hand in loose and careless tresses, for she had taken off her bonnet, which lay on the floor beside her; her attitude was that of weariness--nay, there was a sigh! Good heavens! is she weeping? My book fell to the ground; she started up, and, in a voice not louder than a whisper, exclaimed, 'Mr. Templeton!' 'Blanche!--Lady Blanche!' cried I, as my head swam round in a strange confusion, and a dim and misty vapour danced be...
You must be a member of JacketFlap to add a video to this page. Please
Log In or
Register.
View Charles James Lever's profile