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Books Books 1 - 10 of 165 on Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as....  
" Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside, Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses! Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that... "
The shorter Globe readers, compiled and ed. by A.F. Murison. Standard 2-6 - Page 20
edited by - 1884
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The Knickerbocker: Or, New-York Monthly Magazine, Volume 49

Charles Fenno Hoffman, Timothy Flint, Lewis Gaylord Clark, John Holmes Agnew, Kinahan Cornwallis - American periodicals - 1857
...people on the banks of the Seine. TAIR was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the...they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses.' Who can help repeating the familiar words of the idyl amid euch scenery, and in such a presence ? along...
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The Southern literary messenger

1847
...the Art of Sinking in Poetry. "Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers, Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the...brown shade of her tresses ! Sweet was her breath ağ the breath of tine that feed in the meadows." Oh, Mr. Longfellow ! was ever maiden of Acadie so...
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Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Acadians - 1848 - 163 pages
...cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the...at noontide Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah ! fair in_sppth was the maiden. Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled...
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The Metropolitan, Volume 52

English literature - 1848
...behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Elack were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn t>7 "^ way-side, Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath...her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the "When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair...
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Evangeline: a tale [in verse].

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - 1848
...behold, that maiden of seventeen summers; Black were her eyes as the herry that grows on the thorn hy the way-side,— Black, yet how softly they gleamed...Sweet was her breath, as the breath of kine that feed m the meadows When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide Flagons of home-brewed ale:...
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New Englander and Yale Review, Volume 6

Edward Royall Tyler, William Lathrop Kingsley, George Park Fisher, Timothy Dwight - United States - 1848
...cheeks as brown as oak leaves. That maiden of seventeen summers was fair to behold ; her eyes were black as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside...they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses. Her breath was sweet as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. Now, it is almost impossible to...
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The American Whig Review, Volume 7

1848
...able to lift themselves up to the height of his greatness. The comparison in the extract quoted — " Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows," is neither suggested nor suggestive, neither natural nor well chosen, but forced, unapt -and not new....
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The American Whig Review, Volumes 7-8

Philosophy - 1848
...able to lift themselves up to the height of his greatness. The comparison in the extract quoted — " Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows," is neither suggested nor suggestive, neither natural nor well chosen, but forced, unapt and not new....
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The Metropolitan Magazine, Volume 52

Literary Criticism - 1848
...cheeks as brown aa the oak-leaves. Pair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the way- side, Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses ! Sweet was her...
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The Benares magazine

History
...as one need wish to shrive. " Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the...they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses 1 Sweet was her breath as the breath of the kine that feed in the meadows. When in the harvest heat...
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