Nocturnal Visit: A Tale (Google eBook)

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John Conrad, & Company, Philadelphia; M. & I. Conrad, & Company, Baltimore; and Rapin, Conrad, & Company, Washington City. H. Maxwell, printer, 1801 - Irish fiction
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Page 90 - Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Page 3 - Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise.
Page 18 - Since every man who lives, is born to die, And none can boast sincere felicity, With equal mind, what happens, let us bear, Nor joy, nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend; The world's an inn, and death the journey's end. Even kings but play; and when their part is done, Some other, worse or better, mount the throne.
Page 12 - And elegance, and taste : the faultless form, Shaped by the hand of harmony ; the cheek, Where the live crimson, through the native white Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom, And every nameless grace ; the parted lip, Like the red rose-bud moist with morning dew, Breathing delight...
Page 33 - Oh, knew he but his happiness, of men The happiest he! who far from public rage, Deep in the vale, with a choice few retir'd, Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life.
Page 4 - The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Page 68 - How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Page 143 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Page 92 - But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves, Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves, Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws A death-like silence., and a dread repose: Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene, Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green, Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Page 117 - And faltering died unfinish'd on her tongue, Or vanish'd into sighs : with long delay Her voice return'd ; and found the wonted way. Tell me, my lord...

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