Melton De Mowbray; or, The banker's son [by W.H. Merle].

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Page 301 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 301 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Page 77 - The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again. The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair. The sea itself, which one would think Should have but little need of drink, Drinks twice ten thousand rivers up, So fill'd that they o'erflow the cup.
Page 77 - Drinks up the sea, and when he's done, The Moon and Stars drink up the Sun: They drink and dance by their. own light, They drink and revel all the night: Nothing in Nature's sober found, But an eternal health goes round.
Page 179 - Dreams are but interludes which fancy makes ; When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes : Compounds a medley of disjointed things, A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings : Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad : Both are the reasonable soul run mad : And many monstrous forms in sleep we see, That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be.
Page 67 - Thames ! the most loved of all the Ocean's sons, By his old sire, to his embraces runs, Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Like mortal life to meet eternity ; Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold * : His genuine and less guilty wealth t' explore, Search not his bottom, but survey his shore, O'er which he kindly spreads his spacious wing, And hatches plenty for th...
Page 67 - O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Page 172 - No, let me rather gaze, for ever gaze, And bless the new-born glories that adorn thee ; " From every blush, that kindles in thy cheeks, " Ten thousand little loves and graces spring " To revel in the roses — 't wo' not be,
Page 272 - The shepherd drives his fainting flock Beneath the covert of a rock, And seeks refreshing rivulets nigh : The Sylvans to their shades retire, Those very shades and streams new shades and streams require, And want a cooling breeze of wind to fan the raging fire.
Page 210 - Tis with a single hair pull'd out. Others believe no voice t' an organ So sweet as lawyer's in his bar-gown, Until with subtle cobweb-cheats They're catch'd in knotted law like nets : In which, when once they are imbrangled, The more they stir the more they're tangled ; 20 And while their purses can dispute, There's no end of th

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