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A. C. Madan A. K. Connell arms atque Butterworth C. P. Ilbert Cambridge Cobb Davis death E. C. Boyle earth Eddy English eyes fair father fear FORM gods H. D. Thomas H. F. Evans hand head heard heart Henry hope IDEM LATINE INSTITUTED J. W. Harris Jeffreys king land light lived Lock M. E. Yeatman Marlborough Martin Merton College mihi never night o'er once Oxford Paravicini passed PRIZE quæ quam quid quod R. B. Smith Robinson round S. C. Russell S. H. Butcher Scholar Scholarship sleep stand T. H. Carson T. L. Papillon tamen tell thee thing thou thought Trinity College W. H. Simcox W. J. Greenwell W. M. Furneaux γαρ δε εν και ου τε
Página 16 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
Página 4 - And in the moon athwart the place of tombs, Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men, Old knights, and over them the sea-wind sang Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down By zig-zag paths, and juts of pointed rock, 50 Came on the shining levels of the lake.
Página 8 - And shook his throne. What though the field be lost? All is not lost — the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate. And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome. That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from .me.
Página 6 - And she was there, my hope, my joy, My own dear Genevieve! She leaned against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope! my joy! my Genevieve! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve.
Página 12 - Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head; As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge, revenge!
Página 20 - And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill.
Página 6 - Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp : Again that consummation she essayed ; But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp As often as that eager grasp was made. The Phantom parts — but parts to reunite, And re-assume his place before her sight.