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Hark! heard you not those hoofs of dreadful note ?
Page. My untried muse shall no high-tune assume,
67 Not easily, my friend, can I recount,
236 O could my spirit fy from this dark world of woe,
254 O heaven, O beautiful and boundless sky, O listen, listen, ladies gay! ..... ......
182 O wanderer ! would thy heart forget, ..........
65 Of power and honour no longer a token,
162 Oft have I thought, if I should die,
207 Oh! child of grief, why weepest thou ?
154 Ob poverty ! is this a child of thine, ....
253 Oh! say not that the picturings of youth,
185 Oh that those lips had language ! life has passed,
28 Oh! the lady I admire is so beautiful and bright,
42 On beds of snow the moon-beam slept ...
225 On Ella's cheek the rose was seen, ........
136 Oppressed with grief, oppressed with care, ' ..............
151 Our days, alas ! our mortal days, .....
181 Paris ! there was no sleep beneath thy roofs,
242 Prostrate in the dust,
168 Reader ! the mortal part is here interred,
12 Scenes of my youth! ye once were dear,
51 See, reader, here, in youth, or age, or prime,
220 See the glow-worm lits her fairy lamp,
192 Shall he, whose birth, maturity and age,
143 She was a thing of morn, with the soft calm,
43 Smile through thy tears like the blush moss-rose,
205 Soldier ! so tender of thy Prince's fame,
219 Soon shall I lay my head, .........
231 So prayed the Psalmist to be free,
47 Stranger, pause--for thee the day, ....
199 Stranger ! who sleeps in yonder nameless grave,
9 Sun of the sleepless ! melancholy star, .......................... 131 The bark that held a prince went down,
40 The curling waves with awful roar, ............
45 The day-light is fading! the cloud-broken ray,
121 The dews of night did falle, occ...**
Page. The dreadful thunder storm at length is past,
147 The hour and its terrors are past,
196 There is a flower, a little flower,
71 There is a land, of every land the pride,
90 There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet,
142 The silver lamp burns dead and dim,
119 The soft blooms of summer are fair to the eye,
130 They bid me sleep-they bid me pray, .
218 They have made her a grave too cold and damp, ............. 124 Those evening bells, those evening bells,
229 Thou art come from the spirits' land, thou bird,
171 Thou fairy amorist ! in the forest singing,
131 Though time hath not wreathed,
76 Through many a land and clime a ranger,
26 'Tis thou that soothest the deathbed of the saint,
117 'Twas summer, and a Sabbath eve, ................
220 Upon yon dial-stone,
247 Weep, Emmeline, weep,
110 Weep not for me, mother! because I must die,
176 What hidest thou in thy treasure caves and cells ?
82 What's earthly hope? -a worthless thing,
204 When night sits on the earth, and tower and town, .... ..... 158 When the last sunshine of expiring day, ......
85 When the sun is laid in his purple shroud,
145 When the sun shines out bright,
13 When years of pain and peril past, .................
194 Where are you with whom in life I started, .......
249 Who hushed my infant cares to rest,
108 • Why loves my flower, (the sweetest flower,)'
221 Wild as the rocking of a bark upon 'a stormy sea, ............
111 With fruitless labour Clara bound,
229 Yea --if the world have loved thee not,
103 Yes, thou art changed since first we met, .......................
33 Yet half I hear the parting spirit sigh,
144 Yes! I have seen the ancient oak,
133 Yet such the destiny of all on earth, varonoviusots.co
The famous Earl of Leicester, Queen Elizabeth's favourite, was
early married to the unfortunate subject of the following poem, by name Amy Robsart. After his advancement at Court, his former love to his Countess was changed into hatred, as he considered her as the only bar to his ambitious projeet of marrying Queen Elizabeth. Aceordingly, far from bringing her to Court, he confined her in an ancient Gothic building in Berkshire, upon his manor of Cumnor, which had formerly been an Abbey. From this dreary solitude she disappeared so very unaccountably, and her husband's account of her death seemed so suspicious, that it was generally believed she was there murdered. The particulars which led to these suspicions may be found in a book called Leicester's Commonwealth, well known to book-collectors, and supposed to be written by Parsons the Jesuit.
This beautiful ballad was written by William Julius Mickle, the
translator of the Lusiad, and published in Evan's Ancient Bal. lads. The Author of Waverley's admiration of the ballad induced him to found, on the same incidents, the popular Romance of Kenilworth.
The dews of night did falle,
The moone (sweet regente of the sky,)
And many an oake that grew therebye.
Now noughte was bearde beneathe the skies,
(The soundes of busye life were stille,) Save an unhappie ladie's sighes
That issued from that lonely pile.
Leicester,' shee cried, ' is thys thy love
That thou so oft has sworne to mee, :
Immured in shameful privitie ?'
No more thou com'st with lover's speede,
Thy once-beloved bryde to see ;
I feare (sterne earle's) the same to thee.