An Address to the Literary Members of the University

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Munday and Slatter, 1816 - Farrago - 19 pages

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Page 34 - A little child, a limber elf, Singing, dancing to itself, A fairy thing with red round cheeks That always finds, and never seeks, Makes such a vision to the sight As fills a father's eyes with light...
Page 32 - With music strong and saintly song To wander through the forest bare, Lest aught unholy loiter there.
Page 33 - So deeply had she drunken in That look, those shrunken serpent eyes, That all her features were resigned To this sole image in her mind : And passively did imitate That look of dull and treacherous hate...
Page 26 - Off, woman, off! this hour is mine Though thou her guardian spirit be, Off, woman, off! 'tis given to me.' Then Christabel knelt by the lady's side, And raised to heaven her eyes so blue Alas! said she, this ghastly ride Dear lady! it hath wildered you!
Page 25 - And the lady, whose voice was faint and sweet, Did thus pursue her answer meet:— My sire is of a noble line, And my name is Geraldine...
Page 28 - Large tears that leave the lashes bright ! And oft the while she seems to smile As infants at a sudden light ! Yea, she doth smile, and she doth weep, Like a youthful hermitess, Beauteous in a wilderness, Who, praying always, prays in sleep.
Page 35 - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek — There is n^ttt wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Page 29 - EACH matin bell, the Baron saith, Knells us back to a world of death. These words Sir Leoline first said, When he rose and found his lady dead: These words Sir Leoline will say, Many a morn to his dying day!
Page 31 - No cause for her distressful cry; But yet for her dear lady's sake I stooped, methought, the dove to take, When lo!
Page 31 - Again she saw that bosom old, Again she felt that bosom cold, And drew in her breath with a hissing sound : Whereat the Knight turned wildly round, And nothing saw, but his own sweet maid With eyes upraised, as one that prayed.

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