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Agnes arms Athens beauty better born bright bring Burgundy child Cordelia Corn cried daughter dear door dream Enid Enter Euripides eyes face fair fall father fear France gazed Geraint give grace green half hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hold Kent king lady land Lear leave LENOX less light look lord lost Madeline maid maiden means moon morn nature never night noble o'er once passion poor Porphyro pray pride PUBLIC rest rich rose scarce side silver sister sleep smile soft song soon soul sound sparrow-hawk speak stand stranger sweet tell thee thine thing thou thought told took town turn voice weep wheel wide wings young
Página 88 - Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve.
Página 121 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Página 150 - O, reason not the need ! Our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous. Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beast's.
Página 84 - But his sagacious eye an inmate owns: By one, and one, the bolts full easy slide: — The chains lie silent on the footworn stones ; The key turns, and the door upon its hinges groans. XLII And they are gone : ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm.
Página 75 - He had a fever late, and in the fit 'He cursed thee and thine, both house and land: 'Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit 'More tame for his gray hairs — Alas me! flit! 'Flit like a ghost away.
Página 75 - And be liege-lord of all the Elves and Fays, To venture so: it fills me with amaze To see thee, Porphyro ! — St. Agnes' Eve ! God's help! my lady fair the conjuror plays This very night: good angels her deceive! But let me laugh awhile, — I've mickle time to grieve.
Página 128 - Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept; Come and receive them while the light Hangs on the dew-locks of the night: And Titan on the eastern hill Retires himself, or else stands still Till you come forth.
Página 65 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and locked embrace Our parting was fu...