With a bosom throbbing with emotion, I saw that we were descending towards the American continent.

" FLORA puts her hands to her temples, to soothe her throbbing head and display a bracelet.

All the gibes and annoyances of the past months rushed into my mind, and set my head throbbing.

Even in my misery I saw the fairness of the spectacle, and the cool plunge of the stream was grateful to my throbbing eyes.

" In silence he led the way past the great mill buildings of red brick, square and unlovely but many-windowed and glowing, alight, throbbing with the hum of pent industry.

Her desperate gaze roved over the few scattered lights of the little village, over the great flaring, throbbing mills beyond, as though questioning where she could seek for assistance.

Of course, this throbbing pain would grieve itself down; but in all the years to come no one would take just the place her old father had left vacant.

She had all but reached the end of the timber,I stood there to grasp her hand,when the old tree, whirled down by the torrent, struck the other end of the beam and threw Josephine forward to the bank, dashing her throbbing, panting breast, with all the force of her fall, against the hard ground.

Originality gradually gave place to conventionality, until men actually came to prefer the absurdities of Ciceronianism, and a cold, colorless adherence to hard-and-fast rules of composition, to a work throbbing with the pulsation of virile life.

In buskin'd measures move Pale Grief, and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.

When silent misery assail'd his eyes, Did e'er his throbbing bosom sympathise?

1 When Sappho struck the quivering wire, The throbbing breast was all on fire; And when she raised the vocal lay, The captive soul was charm'd away! 2 But had the nymph possess'd with these Thy softer, chaster power to please, Thy beauteous air of sprightly youth, Thy native smiles of artless truth

Though passion thrills, and eager fancies throng, Deckt in the varying hues of joy and pain, Yet the weak voiceas weak as Love is strong Dies murm'ring on Love's throbbing heart again.

And in the silent whispers and the sighs That from the throbbing heart of Nature rise, I hear thee, feel thee,own thy presence there.

Ah, fond deceit!too soon the heart, unblest, Unsated, turns from these illusive charms Back to the haunting dream of heav'n once known: It pines for those soft eyes, that throbbing breast, Those sweet life-giving lips, those circling arms The breath, the touch, the warmth of Beauty flown.

On that fateful Saturday afternoon in August, after nearly fifty years of silence through the length and breadth of France, there sounded again the ominous throbbing of the drums calling for the general mobilization of the nation.

But staywhat means this throbbing brain

Thus list'ning to ward off approaching foes, A distant whispering, fighting, murmuring sound Salutes his ear, and to his throbbing heart Soft tidings tells of tenderness and love.

It was a plaintive, melancholy melody she played first, throbbing with unsatisfied longing and quivering with pain and heartbreak.

Not even a breath of wind rustled the grass; yet ever and anon the man paused glanced back the way he had come, listened, his throat throbbing with the effort of repressed breathing, in obvious expectation of a sound he did not hear; then, for the time relieved, forged ahead afresh, one hand gripping the butt of an old Springfield rifle slung over his shoulder, the other, big, unclean, sunbrowned, swinging like a pendulum at his side.

Unique in the history of man's development was this the era of the cowboy, as fantastic now as the era of the red peril, its predecessor; yet vital, bizarre, throbbing, unconsciously human, as no other period has ever been, as in all probability none will ever be again.

Ferragut felt a pleasure in these relations of imperial splendor, palaces of gold, epic encounters and furious frays, while his ship was navigating through the black night and bounding over the dark sea accompanied by the throbbing of machinery and the noisy thrum of the screw, at times out of the water during the furious rocking from prow to poop.

At night, this smithy of Vulcan becomes a glow of red, throbbing faintly against the darkness, a capricious and sullen beacon immeasurably removed from the path of men.

Her breast rose and fell, as if timed to the throbbing of that distant flare.

Acres and acres of graves filled with forms once full of throbbing life and hope and dreams of future happiness, cut down like grass before the mower.