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Adleu Adrice ahle ahore anthor Bard Camoens Catullus caunot chlef comhine dark dear death deeds Deloraine Deroted dream Edinhurgh Eplc eren erer erery fame Farewell feel foes frlend frlendship gare genius giren glory grare grlef hahe hail hare heen hath heam heanty hear hearen heart hefore hend heneath hero hest hetter hirth hlast hless hless'd hloed hlossom hlush hoast honour hope hosom hoth hrain hrare hreak hreast hright hrother hrow insplre lahour leare lire Lord Byron lore lyre marrel Muse natire ne'er nerer NEWSTEAD ABBEY nohle nohlest o.er o'er ohey once orer patriclan plnion poem praise puhlic puhlished rain receired Rerlew rerse rery rhyme riral rlew roice rulgar sare scenes sclence sereral shont sighs slares smile song soul splrit Stanzas strain tears thee theu thine thou throng Translation trareller tremhling Trnth twill ware withont yleld yonth
Page 155 - The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never stretch again. Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down ; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own ; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.
Page 134 - Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest...
Page 162 - Derision shall strike thee forlorn, A mockery that never shall die : The curses of Hate and the hisses of Scorn Shall burthen the winds of thy sky ; And proud o'er thy ruin for ever be hurled The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World.
Page 134 - Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away: Still thine own its life retaineth, Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And the undying thought which paineth Is — that we no more may meet.
Page 148 - ... warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee Too deeply to tell. In secret we met: In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? — With silence and tears.
Page 149 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
Page 134 - Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go.
Page 154 - There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay: Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.