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Agnes arms Aurora beauty better born breath bright bring Burgundy child Cordelia Corn daughter dear door dream Enid eyes face fair fall father fear France gazed Geraint give grace green half hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hold keep Kent king lady land Lear leaves LENOX less light look lord lost Madeline maid maiden marquis means morn never night noble o'er once passion poor Porphyro pray pride PUBLIC rest rich rose round Save scarce side sister smile soft song soon sound sparrow-hawk speak stand stood stranger sweet tell thee thine thing thou thought told took touch town turn unto weep wide wife woman YORK young
92. oldal - 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.
121. oldal - 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.
150. oldal - 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.
84. oldal - 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.
75. oldal - 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.
75. oldal - 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.
128. oldal - 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.
65. oldal - 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...