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24 psl. - Through sunny May, through sultry June, I loved her with a love eternal ; I spoke her praises to the moon, I wrote them to the Sunday JournaL...
24 psl. - She smiled on many just for fun — I knew that there was nothing in it ; I was the first, the only one Her heart had thought of for a minute ; I knew it, for she told me so, In phrase which was divinely moulded; She wrote a charming hand, and oh ! How sweetly all her notes were folded ! Our love was like most other loves — A little glow, a little shiver ; A rosebud and a pair of gloves, And
43 psl. - Some years ago, ere time and taste Had turned our parish topsy-turvy, When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste, And roads as little known as scurvy, The man who lost his way, between St. Mary's Hill and Sandy Thicket, Was always shown across the green, And guided to the Parson's wicket. Back flew the bolt of lissom lath; Fair Margaret, in her tidy kirtle, Led the lorn traveller up the path, Through...
67 psl. - Romney's touch be true, What a lucky dog were you, Grandpapa! Her lips are sweet as love; They are parting! Do they move? Are they dumb ? Her eyes are blue, and beam Beseechingly, and seem To say, "Come!
44 psl. - That Earth is foul, that Heaven is gracious, Without refreshment on the road From Jerome, or from Athanasius; And sure a righteous zeal inspired The hand and head that penned and planned them, For all who understood, admired, And some who did not understand them.
66 psl. - THIS Relative of mine Was she seventy-and-nine When she died ? By the canvas may be seen How she look'd at seventeen, As a Bride. Beneath a summer tree Her maiden reverie Has a charm ; Her ringlets are in taste ; What an arm ! and what a waist For an arm...
33 psl. - You'll come to our Ball; - since we parted, I've thought of you more than I'll say; Indeed, I was half broken-hearted For a week, when they took you away. Fond fancy brought back to my slumbers Our walks on the Ness and the Den, And echoed the musical numbers Which you used to sing to me then. I know the romance, since it's over, 'Twere idle, or worse, to recall; I know you're a terrible rover; But Clarence, you'll come to our Ball!
30 psl. - BEATING Heart ! we come again Where my Love reposes : This is Mabel's window-pane ; These are Mabel's roses. Is she nested ? Does she kneel In the twilight stilly, Lily clad from throat to heel, She, my virgin Lily ? Soon the wan, the wistful stars, Fading, will forsake her ; Elves of light, on beamy bars, Whisper then, and wake her. So AT HER WINDOW 51 Let this friendly pebble plead At her flowery grating ; If she hear me will she heed ? Mabel, I am waiting.
43 psl. - His talk was like a stream which runs With rapid change from rocks to roses : It slipped from politics to puns : It passed from Mahomet to Moses : Beginning with the laws which keep The planets in their radiant courses, And ending with some precept deep For dressing eels or shoeing horses.
34 psl. - Miss Manners, who always abused you, For talking so much about Hock ; And her sister who often amused you, By raving of rebels and Rock ; And something which surely would answer, An heiress quite fresh from Bengal ; — So, though you were seldom a dancer, You'll dance, just for once, at our Ball.

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