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able answer appear asked beautiful became believe brought called character child close daughter dear death desire early entered expression eyes face father fear feel friends gave girl give given hand happy head hear heard heart hope husband interest Italy kind King knew known Lady leave less letter light lived London look Lord manner Mary ment mind Miss morning mother nature never night noble once passed person poor present Prince prisoners received remained rest returned says seemed seen sent side sister soon soul speak spirit story strong suffered taken tell thee things thou thought tion told took turned whole wife woman women writes young
Page 581 - And loathed to see them overtax'd ; but she Did more, and underwent, and overcame, The woman of a thousand summers back, Godiva, wife to that grim Earl, who ruled In Coventry : for when he laid a tax Upon his town, and all the mothers brought Their children, clamouring,
Page 30 - I wist, all their sport in the Park is but a shadow to that pleasure that I find in Plato. Alas! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant.
Page 452 - I thank Thee more that all our joy Is touched with pain ; That shadows fall on brightest hours ; That thorns remain ; So that earth's bliss may be our guide, And not our chain.
Page 609 - ... 6d. each. Each Volume contains a Memoir, and is illustrated with a Portrait of the Author engraved on Steel, and numerous full-page Illustrations on Wood, from designs by eminent Artists; also beautiful Illuminated Title-page. 1. LONGFELLOW'S POETICAL WORKS. 2. SCOTT'S POETICAL WORKS. 3. BYRON'S POETICAL WORKS. 4. MOORE'S POETICAL WORKS. 5. WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS. [Continued on next page.
Page 433 - And friends, dear friends, when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, ' Not a tear must o'er her fall ! ' He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 432 - What would we give to our beloved? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp, to sweep, The patriot's voice, to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown, to light the brows? — He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Page 345 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Page 432 - What do we give to our beloved? A little faith all undisproved, A little dust to overweep, And bitter memories to make The whole earth blasted for our sake : He giveth His beloved — sleep.