The matchmaker, by the author of 'Cousin Geoffrey'.

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Seite 46 - And, when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring, To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.
Seite 222 - Is there, in human form, that bears a heart — A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth ? Curse on his...
Seite 46 - I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reap'd, Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home.
Seite 247 - MY birth-day" — what a different sound That word had in my youthful ears ! And how, each time the day comes round, Less and less white its mark appears ! When first our scanty years are told, It seems like pastime to grow old ; And, as Youth counts the shining links. That Time around him binds so fast, Pleased with the task, he little thinks How hard that chain will press at last. Vain was the man, and false as vain, Who said* — "were he ordain'd to run " His long career of life again, . " He...
Seite 143 - Winter comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train — Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme ; These, that exalt the soul to solemn thought And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms...
Seite 182 - The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul...
Seite 254 - THOU lingering star, with lessening ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Seite 237 - Was my own lord. Then did I seek to rise Out of the prison of my mean estate ; And, with such jewels as the exploring Mind Brings from the caves of Knowledge, buy my ransom From those twin gaolers of the daring heart — Low Birth and iron Fortune.
Seite 277 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Seite 7 - Alas ! regardless of their doom, The little victims play! No sense have they of Ills to come; Nor Care, beyond to-day! Yet see, how all around them wait The Ministers of human fate; And black Misfortune's baleful Train!

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