The sylphs of the seasons: with other poems

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Cummings and Hilliard, 1813 - Всего страниц: 168
 

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Стр. 123 - Prithee, love," said the monster, " what mean these alarms ?" She hears not, she sees not the terrible charms, That work her to horror again. She opens her lids, but no longer her eyes Behold the fair youth she would woo ; Now appears the Paint-King in his natural guise ; His face, like a palette of villanous dyes, Black and white, red and yellow, and blue.
Стр. 128 - I am lost!" said the fiend, and he shook like a leaf; When, casting his eyes to the ground, He saw the lost pupils of Ellen, with grief, In the jaws of a mouse, and the sly little thief Whisk away from his sight with a bound.
Стр. 120 - Fair damsel," said he (and he chuckled the while), " This picture, I see, you admire : Then take it, I pray you ; perhaps 'twill beguile Some moments of sorrow (nay, pardon my smile), Or, at least, keep you home by the fire.
Стр. 2 - District Clerk's Office. BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the seventh day of May, AD 1828, in the fifty-second year of the Independence of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, SG Goodrich, of the said District, has deposited in this office the...
Стр. 17 - O'er all the varying year ! But ere thou rulest the Fates command, That of our chosen rival band A Sylph shall win thy heart and hand. Thy soyereignty to share.
Стр. 122 - And mine, lovely maid, thou art now !" Then high from the ground did the grim monster lift The loud-screaming maid like a blast ; And he sped through the air like a meteor swift, While the clouds, wand'ring by him, did fearfully drift To the right and the left as he passed.
Стр. 14 - An oozing drop, her silent spell No sound had ever broke. There motionless I stood alone, Like some strange monument of stone Upon a barren wild; Or like, (so solid and profound The darkness seem'd that wall'd me round) A man that's buried under ground, Where pyramids are pil'd.
Стр. 125 - With a rock for his muller he crush'd every bone, But, though ground to jelly, still, still did she groan; For life had forsook not the maid. Now reaching his palette, with masterly care Each tint on its surface he spread; The blue of her eyes, and the brown of her hair, And the pearl and the white of her forehead so fair, And her lips' and her cheeks
Стр. 126 - Yet ne'er to the canvas could I with my art The least of thy wonderful beauties impart ; And my failure with scorn you repaid. " Now I swear by the light of the Comet-King's tail!
Стр. 124 - And anon, as he puffed the vast volumes, were seen, In horrid festoons on the wall, Legs and arms, heads and bodies, emerging between, Like the drawing-room grim of the Scotch Sawney Beane, By the Devil dressed out for a ball.

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