The Life and Correspondence of M.G. Lewis: With Many Pieces in Prose and Verse, Never Before Published, Volume 1

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H. Colburn, 1839 - 2 halaman
 

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Halaman 36 - To roam in climes unkind and new. The cold wind of the stranger blew Chill on my withered heart the grave Dark and untimely met my view ; And all for thee, vile yellow slave...
Halaman 185 - Its happy being ; taste in thought again Of the stolen sweetness of those evening walks, When pansied turf was air to winged feet, And circling forests, by ethereal touch Enchanted, wore the livery of the sky...
Halaman 37 - Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb, In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes, Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom, Or earth had profaned what was born for the skies.
Halaman 187 - I undone. From that hour has reason never Held her empire o'er my brain. Henry fled — with him for ever Fled the wits of Crazy Jane. Now forlorn and broken-hearted...
Halaman 18 - She immediately stooped to regain it, but as she picked it up, the red leaves scattered themselves on the carpet, and the stalk alone remained in her hand. The poor girl, who had been depressed in spirits before, was evidently affected by this incident, and said in a slightly faltering voice, ' I trust I am not to consider this as an evil omen ! ' But soon rallying, she expressed to Mrs.
Halaman 36 - I cannot bear to see thee shine. For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave...
Halaman 314 - I will bear my sorrows like a man, But I must also feel them as a man. I cannot but remember such things were, And were most dear to me.
Halaman 36 - Ha ! com'st thou now so late to mock A wanderer's banished heart forlorn, Now that his frame the lightning shock Of sun-rays tipt with death has borne ? From love, from friendship, country, torn, To memory's fond regrets the prey, Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn ! — Go, mix thee with thy kindred clay...
Halaman 231 - Never did Covent Garden present such a picture of agitation and dismay. Ladies bathed in tears — others fainting — and some shrieking with terror — while such of the audience as were able to avoid demonstration like these, sat aghast, with pale horror painted on their countenance. It is said that the very box-keepers took fright...
Halaman 35 - Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave ; The daring thoughts that soar'd sublime Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. Slave of the mine ! thy yellow light Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear.