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appeared arms beauty Bessie bosom breath bright brow buckra capotes castle Caterine cheek child colour Constance corsage cousin dark daugh daughter dear death door dream dress Emma exclaimed eyes face fair fancy father favour fear feelings felt Floranthe flowers gaze gentle girl gondola graceful hand happy Harley heard heart heaven honour hope hour Kilan knew lace light lips look Lord lover Madame Madame du Barri marriage ment mind Miss Mornington Miss Wrinklebrow morning Mostar mother muslin Natalie never night noble o'er Obeah once organdy pale passed passion Penfield person Phaon pleasure poor Powys quadrilles racter redingote replied returned robe rose round Sappho scene seemed silent sister sleeve smile soon sorrow soul spirit stood sweet tears thee thing thou thought tion Tium trimmed turned Valenciennes lace voice wish woman words youth
Page 91 - The stars of midnight shall be dear To her ; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.
Page 188 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 353 - By our own spirits are we deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness ; But thereof comes in the end despondency and madness.
Page 147 - The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed, To pleasure his dainty whim : And the mouldering dust that years have made, Is a merry meal for him. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green. Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, And a staunch old heart has he.
Page 288 - ... were proud of one another the first week, and ashamed of one another ever after. Let us never visit together, nor go to a play together, but let us be very strange and well bred.
Page 350 - Many people suppose that poetry is something to be found only in books, contained in lines of ten syllables, with like endings: but wherever there is a sense of beauty, or power, or harmony, as in the motion of a wave of the sea, in the growth of a flower that " spreads its sweet leaves to the air, and dedicates its beauty to the sun," — there is poetry in its birth.
Page 63 - THE gondola glides — Like a spirit of night, — O'er the slumbering tides, In the calm moonlight! The star of the north Shows her golden eye, — But a brighter looks forth From yon lattice, on high ! Her taper is out, And the silver beam Floats the maiden about, Like a beautiful dream ! And the beat of her heart Makes her tremble all o'er, — And she lists, with a start, To the dash of the oar ! But the moments are past, And her fears are at rest, And her lover, at last, Holds her clasped to...
Page 350 - The poetical impression of any object is that uneasy, exquisite sense of beauty or power that cannot be contained within itself...
Page 152 - When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot.