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Pagina 79 - ... vows seem sweet in every whisper'd word; and gentle winds and waters near make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, and in the sky the stars are met, and on the wave is deeper blue, and on the leaf a browner hue, and in the heaven that clear obscure, so softly dark and darkly pure, which follows the decline of day, as twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Pagina 4 - The Balance of Comfort, or the Old Maid and the Married Woman, by Mrs. Ross, 4th edition, 3 vols 0 16 0 Mademoiselle de la Fayette, by Madame Genlis, % vols.
Pagina 52 - The moon shines bright : — In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise ; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.
Pagina 4 - D'Arcy, 3 vols... 0 15 0 Jessy, or the Rose of Donald's Cottage, by the Author of the Bravo of Bohemia, 4 vols...
Pagina 2 - Love, Mystery, and Misery, by AF Holstein, 2 vols 0 10 0 The Modern Villa and Ancient Castle, or the Peer and Alderman, by Miss Byron, Author of the Englishwoman, &c. 3 vols 0 15 0 Festival of St. Jago, by the Author of the Private History of the Court of England...
Pagina 79 - It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Pagina 22 - O bards, over the land of strangers. They have but fallen before us: for, one day, we must fall. Why dost thou build the hall, son of the winged days? Thou lookest from thy towers to-day; yet a few years, and the blast of the desart comes; it howls in thy empty court, and whistles round thy half-worn shield.
Pagina 22 - It recalled to our recollection the description given by Fingal to Clessammor, of the deserted habitation of Moina : — " We have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls, and the voice of the people is heard no more. The thistle shook there its lonely head ; the moss whistled to the wind ; the fox looked out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waved round its head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina, silence is in the house of her fathers.

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