Wanderings of Childe Harolde: A Romance of Real Life : Interspersed with Memoirs of the English Wife, the Foreign Mistress, and Various Other Celebrated Characters, Volume 2

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Sherwood, Jones & Company, 1825
 

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Page 134 - Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below. Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, "Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?— 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Page 191 - rp 1 is said she once was beautiful; — and still — (For 'tis not years that can have wrought her ill,) — Deep rays of loveliness around her form Beam, as the rainbow that succeeds the storm, Brightens a glorious ruin.
Page 62 - LORD, thy Grandsire had a friend, In days of youthful fame ; Yon distant hills were his domains, Sir Bertram was his name. Where'er the noble Percy fought His friend was at his side ; And many a skirmish with the Scots Their early valour tried.
Page 94 - ... pliant slave In gallant trim, and gay; His course was Pleasure's placid wave, His life a summer's day. And I was caught in Folly's snare, And join'd her giddy train — But found her soon the nurse of Care, And Punishment, and Pain. There surely is some guiding Power Which rightly suffers wrong — Gives Vice to bloom its little hour — But Virtue, late and long.
Page 57 - DESIGNED for peace, and soft delight, For tender love, and pity mild, O seek not thou the craggy height, The howling main, the desert wild ! Stay in the shelter'd valley low, Where calmly blows the fragrant ah-, But shun the mountain's stormy brow, For darken'd winds are raging there.
Page 13 - Know not a trace of Nature but the form ; Yet, at thy call, the hardy tar pursued, Pale, but intrepid, sad, but unsubdued, Pierced the deep woods, and, hailing from...
Page 90 - tis Fancy fires the soul. Far beyond the bounds of meaning Fancy flies, a fairy queen ! Fancy, wit and worth disdaining, Gives the prize to Harlequin.
Page 75 - ... again, again, and these lines were written with his pencil, on the spot where, ages ago, Cato might have pondered over his favourite author Plato : — REFLECTION ON THE DEATHS OF CATO AND , '- LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH. This in a moment brings me to an end, While that informs me 1 shall never die. ADDISOK. Its wings around the yielding town, The victor's host unfurl'd,
Page 103 - And happier every coming day, To thee and those who love thee. Calm o'er thy soul may hope arise, Each secret fear beguiling ; And every glance of those blue eyes Be brilliant still — and smiling. And placid be thy gentle heart, And peaceful all around it ; Nor grief, nor gloomy care, impart Their cheerless pangs to wound it.
Page 61 - Th' unfeeling for his own. Yet, ah! why should they know their fate, Since sorrow never comes too late, And happiness too swiftly flies ? Thought would destroy their paradise! No more; — where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.

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