He uncovered the vase, and threw the faded rose into the water which it contained.
The fresh gloss of the soul, so early lost, and without which the world's successive scenes had been but a gallery of faded pictures, again threw its enchantment over all their prospects.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart Warmed with music, love, and light; And his fair home, once so dreary, Gay with lovely Elves and flowers, Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Peaceful were the land races in those distant days--only the seafarers were warriors; but now has the glory of the past faded
, nor did I think until I met you that there remained upon Barsoom a single person of our own mould who lived and loved and fought as did the ancient seafarers of my time.
Archer contemplated with awe the two slender faded
figures, seated side by side in a kind of viceregal rigidity, mouthpieces of some remote ancestral authority which fate compelled them to wield, when they would so much rather have lived in simplicity and seclusion, digging invisible weeds out of the perfect lawns of Skuytercliff, and playing Patience together in the evenings.
Poor Cecily stood beside her mute and pale, in her faded
school garb and heavy copper-toed boots.
Continually, as we may express it, he faded away out of his place; or, in other words, his mind and consciousness took their departure, leaving his wasted, gray, and melancholy figure--a substantial emptiness, a material ghost--to occupy his seat at table.
This old, faded garment, with all its pristine brilliancy extinct, seemed, in some indescribable way, to translate the wearer's untold misfortune, and make it perceptible to the beholder's eye.
"There is a crimson curtain in a trunk above stairs,--a little faded and moth-eaten, I'm afraid,--but Phoebe and I will do wonders with it."
In this depth of grief and pity she felt that there was no irreverence in gazing at his altered, aged, faded, ruined face.
Beyond that the tints darkened into fine gradations of ultramarine, and faded
into vague obscurity.
In Moscow as soon as he entered his huge house in which the faded
and fading princesses still lived, with its enormous retinue; as soon as, driving through the town, he saw the Iberian shrine with innumerable tapers burning before the golden covers of the icons, the Kremlin Square with its snow undisturbed by vehicles, the sleigh drivers and hovels of the Sivtsev Vrazhok, those old Moscovites who desired nothing, hurried nowhere, and were ending their days leisurely; when he saw those old Moscow ladies, the Moscow balls, and the English Club, he felt himself at home in a quiet haven.