Luna, Volume 2

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Page 233 - AND on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old...
Page 11 - Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away! How a sound shall quicken content to bliss, Or a breath suspend the blood's best play, And life be a proof of this!
Page 140 - The lowness of the present state, That sets the past in this relief? Or that the past will always win A glory from its being far; And orb into the perfect star We saw not, when we moved therein?
Page 1 - For each glance of the eye so bright and black, Though I keep with heart's endeavour, — Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, Though it stay in my soul...
Page 115 - Come, Resignation, spirit meek, And let me kiss thy placid cheek. And read, in thy pale eye serene, Their blessing who by faith can wean Their hearts from sense, and learn to love God only, and the joys above.
Page 249 - Here at least, where nature sickens, nothing. Ah for some retreat Deep in yonder shining Orient, where my life began to beat! Where in wild Mahratta-battle fell my father, evil-starred; I was left a trampled orphan, and a selfish uncle's ward.
Page 182 - But a world happy and fair ! I have not wished it to mourn with me — Comfort is not there.
Page 182 - And with angel voices blent; 0 once to feel thy spirit anear; 1 could be content ! Or once between the gates of gold, While an entering angel trod, But once thee sitting to behold On the hills of God ! SEVEN TIMES SIX.
Page 94 - Most noble lord, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, I, sometime call'd the maid of Astolat, Come, for you left me taking no farewell, Hither, to take my last farewell of you. I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death. And therefore to our lady Guinevere, And to all other ladies, I make moan. Pray for my soul, and yield me burial. Pray for my soul thou too, Sir Lancelot, As thou art a knight peerless.
Page 123 - Thou gav'st me milk and sweetnesses ; I had my wish and way : My days were strewed with flowers and happiness : There was no month but May.

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