The Ladies' Cabinet of Fashion, Music & Romance, Volumen8

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Geo. Henderson
 

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Página 176 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou ! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran.
Página 113 - Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines...
Página 174 - Therefore if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace".
Página 302 - Short life, in truth, this thing doth try, "Wherefore, come, death, and let me die. Come, gentle death, the ebb of care; The ebb of care the flood of life ; The flood of life, the joyful fare; The joyful fare, the end of strife— The end of strife that thing wish I, Wherefore, come, death and let me die.
Página 168 - One voice that silence breaks — the prayer is said, And the last rite man pays to man is paid ; The plashing waters mark his resting-place, And fold him round in one long, cold embrace ; Bright bubbles for a moment sparkle o'er. Then break, to be, like him, beheld no more ; Down, countless fathoms down, he sinks to sleep. With all the nameless shapes that haunt the deep.
Página 230 - And he calls thee his sweet wee wife, But let not thy little heart think, Genie, Childhood the prophet of life ; It may be life's minstrel, Genie, And sing sweet songs and clear, But minstrel and prophet now, Genie, Are not united here. What will thy future fate be, Genie, Alas ! shall I live to see ! For thou art scarcely a sapling, Genie, And I am a moss-grown tree ! I am shedding life's leaves fast, Genie, Thou art in blossom sweet; But think of the grave betimes, Genie, Where young and old oft...
Página 302 - The longer life, the more offence: The more offence, the greater pain: The greater pain, the less defence: The less defence, the lesser gain. The loss of gain long ill doth try: Wherefore come death, and let me die! The shorter life, less count I find: The less account, the sooner made: The count soon made, the merrier mind: The merry mind doth thought evade.
Página 230 - Genie, And a little red rose art thou, Thou hast unfolded to-day, Genie, Another bright leaf, I trow; But the roses will live and die, Genie, Many and many a time,, Ere thou hast unfolded quite, Genie — Grown into maiden prime. Thou art looking now at the birds...
Página 15 - tis Virtue makes a King.' True, conscious Honour is to feel no sin, He's arm'd without that's innocent within; Be this thy Screen, and this thy Wall of Brass; 95 Compar'd to this, a Minister's an Ass.
Página 168 - Once more, once more let them who hold him dear But see his face, his faltering voice but hear; We know, alas! that he is marked for death, But let his mother watch his parting breath...

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