Mr. Zinzan of Bath, Or, Seen in an Old Mirror: A Novel

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A. D. Innes, 1891 - 192 pages
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Page 125 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page 90 - Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread; For Love is dead. All Love is dead, infected With plague of deep disdain ; Worth, as nought worth, rejected, And Faith fair scorn doth gain. From so ungrateful fancy, From such a female franzy, From them that use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us ! Weep, neighbours, weep ! do you not hear it said That Love is dead?
Page 102 - ASK me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day, For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more...
Page 103 - Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere ; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough ; Sweet is the eglantine, but pricketh near; Sweet is the firbloom, but his branches rough...
Page 64 - But if she whom love doth honour Be conceal'd from the day, Set a thousand guards upon her, Love will find out the way.
Page 78 - Instructive in his visits and converse, Strives everywhere salvation to disperse ; Of a mild, humble, and obliging heart, Who with his all will to the needy part ; Distrustful of himself, in God confides, Daily himself among his flock divides ; Of virtue uniform, and cheerful air...
Page 167 - ... the agony, in short, of an outrage done to a tender conscience, fell upon her spirit The violent crimson which had flushed to the roots of her hair, and the tips of her ears, faded away, and a heavy sense of misery lay at her heart, that paled and saddened her countenance. ' Oh, I wish Jack were at home ! I could tell it all to Jack...
Page 175 - By the time you read this I shall be on my way to — I know not whithcr — or you may seek me on Claverton Down. Let the past die with me — or without me. For the last time, yours, PlERS LUDLOW.
Page 66 - Nash waved his cream-coloured beaver to the orchestra for silence, and mounted on a bench at the end of the room. There was an...
Page 169 - The painful festivity was over at length ; he had told her over and over again that she was the...

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