"Chime" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... always found in German hotels, and Amy was soon continuing in sleep the romance she had begun awake. She dreamed that the baron proved to be the owner of the fine eyes; that he wooed and won her, and they were floating down the river to the chime of wedding-bells. ...
— Kitty's Class Day And Other Stories • Louisa M. Alcott
... many bards gild the lapses of time! * * * * * ... Often, when I sit me down to rhyme, These will in throngs before my mind intrude, But no confusion, no disturbance rude Do they occasion; 'tis a pleasing chime. ...
— The Poet's Poet • Elizabeth Atkins
... up, the rumor flew from mouth to mouth that the "Pawnee" was steaming up the river to shell the city. The congregations, not waiting to be dismissed, rushed from the churches with a single impulse; the alarm bell in the Square pealed out with a frightened chime. For once, even the women of Richmond were alarmed. The whole population flocked toward "Rocketts"—every eye strained to catch a first glimpse of the terrible monster approaching so rapidly. Old and young men, in Sunday attire, hastened along with rusty muskets and neat "Mantons" ...
— Four Years in Rebel Capitals - An Inside View of Life in the Southern Confederacy from Birth to Death • T. C. DeLeon
... traditions, From authenticated pages, From all evidence existing, We transcribe the names of brothers Who have served our state and county In divergent fields of labor; Who have lent their minds and bodies To the profit of their fellows. Stubborn facts and dates and figures, Chime not smoothly in my measure, Straggling history makes angles, Which do sharply turn my canto— Which transform my major canto Into strains of minor music. Yet the story must be perfect, Of the city on the hillside; Still the awkward miscellany Must awake my bard to ...
— The Song of Lancaster, Kentucky - to the statesmen, soldiers, and citizens of Garrard County. • Eugenia Dunlap Potts
... pebbly beaches. And when they died away and floated like a whisper through the hushed house, it was no longer music; it was a great golden-jacketed bee settling sleepily into the heart of a rose; it was the chime of a vesper-bell broken in mellow cadences between vine-clad hills; it was a something that had no form nor shape, nor semblance to any earthly thing, yet floated midway between the earth and sky, light as the frailest flower of snow ...
— A String of Amber Beads • Martha Everts Holden
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