A Tale of the Olden Time

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John Andrews, 167, New Bond Street., 1821 - 174 pages
 

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Page 53 - The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven ! These charms shall work thy soul's eternal health, And love, and gentleness, and joy impart. But these thou must renounce, if lust of wealth E'er win its way to thy corrupted heart :...
Page 109 - How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air, No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orb'd glory yonder Moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths. Beneath her steady ray The desert-circle spreads, Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. How beautiful is night...
Page 40 - Moping awhile, in sullen mood Droops the sweet mourner— but, ere long, Prunes its light wings, and pecks its food, And meditates the song : Serenely sorrowing, breathes its piteous case, And with its plaintive warblings saddens all the place.
Page 1 - Though to the clouds his castle seem'd to climb, And frown'd defiance on the desperate foe ; Though deem'd invincible, the conqueror Time Levell'd the fabric, as the founder, low. Where the light lyre gave many a softening sound, Ravens and rooks, and birds of discord, dwell ; And where Society sat sweetly crown'd, Eternal Solitude has fix'd her cell.
Page 22 - Merciful Heaven ! why dwells not in a face, Some mark the hidden bosom to reveal, That we might know the generous from the base, From eye, or forehead, stamp'd with nature's seal ? For all the secret virtues we may trace, Of root, or herb, or gold, or temper'd steel ; And safe amid the flocks we roam, but fly The glare of tigers, or hyaena's eye.
Page 61 - The God who penetrates the inmost recesses of our hearts, shall receive that tear before all the proud masses, and splendid offerings, which superstition proffers at his altar; shall acknowledge that tear, and the tears of those whose hearts are like thine, gentle Emma, as...
Page 61 - Being, whose unpetitioned bounty had already given so much ; and to return praises for his gifts, £mma felt, that by any words of hers it were impossible to praise them. — But she clasped her hands together ; cast a rapid glance upon the beauties around her ; turned her eyes towards Heaven, and a tear of gratitude stood trembling on either eye-lid.
Page 58 - The prospect before her, glowing with the brilliant splendour of the newly-risen sun, seemed doubly beautiful. The gentle rippling of the distant ocean, lightly agitated by the breezes of the morning, glittered to the sunbeams; and immediately beneath, for Emma's apartment was situated high on the western tower, she looked down upon the extensive forests, now richly...

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