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Alice Andross arms Ashdale Astura beautiful bless Bolton castle bosom bright Broadway Burney castle Caylus cheek child companions cried dark daugh daughter dear death door dream Edgeville Ellen Eloi exclaimed eyes face father fear feel felt flowers followed Frank gaze gentleman girl hand happy haſ head heard heart heaven honor hope horse hour husband Jouad Klaus knew lady laugh letter light lips Livarot lived look marriage Mato-tope Maylie ment Mervale mind morning mother never Nezualco night once Paddy Sullivan pale passed passion Polydore poor Powhatan Quetzalcoatl racter replied returned Riberac seemed seen silence sister smile soon soul spirit stood stranger sweet tears tell thee thou thought tion took turned Viola voice wife wild Wiley & Putnam woman words young youth
Seite 430 - ... cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well-enchanting skill of music; and with a tale, forsooth, he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play and old men from the chimney corner...
Seite 108 - This should have been a noble creature: he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, It is an awful chaos — light and darkness, And mind and dust, and passions and pure thoughts, Mix'd, and contending without end or order, All dormant or destructive.
Seite 286 - A countenance in which did meet Sweet records, promises as sweet; A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food, For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
Seite 273 - Its dwellings down, its tenants pass'd away; None but her own and father's grave is there, And nothing outward tells of human clay ; Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair, No stone is there to show, no tongue to say, What was; no dirge, except the hollow sea's, Mourns o'er the beauty of the Cyclades.
Seite 430 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Seite 415 - I am positive I have a soul; nor can all the books with which materialists have pestered the world ever convince me to the contrary.
Seite 153 - Joy of her young years, Thinks of thy fate and checks her tears. And she, the mother of thy boys. Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried Joys, And even she who gave thee birth, Will by their pilgrim-circled hearth Talk of thy doom without a sigh: For thou art freedom's now and fame's, One of the few, the immortal names, That were not born to die.
Seite 345 - He the half of life abuses That sits watering with the Muses. Those dull girls no good can mean us; Wine it is the milk of Venus, And the poet's horse accounted; Ply it, and you all are mounted.
Seite 272 - Thus lived- thus died she; never more on her Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made Through years or moons the inner weight to bear, Which colder hearts endure till they are laid By age in earth: her days and pleasures were Brief, but delightful- such as had not staid Long with her destiny; but she sleeps well By the sea-shore, whereon she loved to dwell.