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Updated: June 21, 2025
Then pleasing thought! ere to the realms of light Thy franchis'd spirit took its happy flight, With fond regard, perhaps, thou saw'st me bend O'er the cold relics of my heart's best friend, And heard'st me swear, while her dear hand I prest.
Thou heard'st the manner in which she spoke of the wretched bravo, Jacopo, and of this late murder?" "I did." "Thou could'st not have shown more horror at the monster's crime thyself, Carlo. Nay, Annina is thoughtless, and she might be less worldly; but she hath, like all of us, a holy aversion to sin. Shall I lead thee to the cell?" "Go on."
'O thou whom Poetry abhors, Whom Prose has turned out of doors, Heard'st thou that groan proceed no further, 'Twas laurell'd. Martial roaring murder. For Mr. Elphinston see ante, i. 210. It was called The Siege of Aleppo. Mr. Hawkins, the authour of it, was formerly Professor of Poetry at Oxford. It is printed in his Miscellanies, 3 vols. octavo.
How comes it the chase doth the hunter enchain? But the strangest of all that is told of thee is, I was snared, and thou heard'st not the voice of my pain. Yet grant not my prayer. If I'm jealous for thee Of thyself how much more of myself? Nor again, As long as life lasteth in me, will I say, "O marvel of beauty, how long this disdain?"
Surely this girl must have sat by the shore and waited for her absent lover, or how could she sing with such feeling? Say, my love, why didst thou tarry Far over the deep sea? Knew'st thou not my heart was weary, Heard'st thou not how I sighed for thee! Did no light wind bear my wild despair Far over the deep sea? He could imagine that beautiful face grown pale and wild with anguish.
Oh speak it, sir!" "Die? Talk not so, sweet prince peace, peace, to thy troubled heart thou shalt not die!" Tom dropped upon his knees with a glad cry "God requite thy mercy, O my King, and save thee long to bless thy land!" Then springing up, he turned a joyful face toward the two lords in waiting, and exclaimed, "Thou heard'st it! I am not to die: the King hath said it!"
Thou sawest, in these woods by Loire side, the fair shapes of old religion, Fauns, Nymphs, and Satyrs, and heard'st in the nightingale's music the plaint of Philomel.
'Only a whispering with their heads together, answered Tom. 'And what heard'st thou? 'Nothing, my lord. 'And what followed? 'The roundhead left her, and went through the archway. She stood a moment and then followed him. But I, fearful of her coming up the stair and finding me, gat me quickly to my own place. 'Oh, Tom, Tom! I am ashamed of thee. What! Afraid of a woman?
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