O rosetree planted in my grief, / And growing, on her tomb, / Her dust is greening in your leaf, / Her blood is in your bloom.
Frank and Mary were making their way very carefully across the teetery old plank that led from the bank to the door.
There were many wooden chairs for the bulk of his visitors, and two wicker armchairs with red cloth cushions for superior people. From the packing-cases had emerged some Indian clubs,[…], and all these articles[…] made a scattered and untidy decoration that Mrs. Clough assiduously dusted and greatly cherished.
The Girlery of the House of Commons.ᵀᵐ; ladies are very dissatisfied with their gallery at Westminster Palace.
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