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Aimée appearance arms arrived asked beautiful began beneath body bright called carried church close continued cottage covered cross crowd dark death distance door dreadful entered Eugene eyes father feel flowers fresh give hand happy harbour head hear heard heart holy hope Hôtel de Ville immediately Italy king leave light live looked Marseilles Mary mind morning mother mountains nature never night officer once Paris passed peasants perhaps persons pointing poor present priest quay quitted reached remained replied rest rich road rock rose round Saint scene seemed seen side sight sitting smiling song soon spread standing stood streets tell thing thought told took town trees turned vessel walked waters wild wind window wish wood young
Page 76 - O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ? The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields...
Page 318 - And gladness is taken away, and joy out of the plentiful field; and in the vineyards there shall be no singing, neither shall there be shouting; the treaders shall tread out no wine in their presses; I have made their vintage shouting to cease.
Page 18 - Per me si va nella città dolente; per me si va nell' eterno dolore; per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Page 81 - Just in the nick, the cook knock'd thrice, And all the waiters in a trice His summons did obey; Each serving-man, with dish in hand March'd boldly up, like our train'd band, Presented, and away.
Page 76 - ... renounce the boundless store Of charms which Nature to her votary yields! 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 ! X.
Page 30 - Tuba mirum spargens sonum Per sepulchra regionum Coget omnes ante thronum.
Page 134 - But sure to foreign climes we need not range, Nor search the ancient records of our race, To learn the dire effects of time and change, Which in ourselves, alas ! we daily trace. Yet at the darken'd...
Page 120 - That build your bliss on hope of earthly thing, And vainly think yourselves half happy then, When painted faces with smooth flattering Do fawn on you, and your wide praises sing ; And, when the courting masker louteth low, Him true in heart and trusty to you trow. "All is but feigned, and with...