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Mrs. Opie 137 The Sigh

Coleridge 138 The Timid Lover

Davenport 139 An Apology for having loved before Waller 140 Upon my Mistress Dancing . James Shirley 142 Sonnet

.C. Leftley, Esq. 142 On Aurelia's Blushing A. M. Porter 143 The Hue and Cry

Hurdis 144 Ledyard's Praise of Women Barbauld 147 Stanzas on Woman .

Goldsmith 149 Elegy, describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous

Mind on the melancholy event of a
Licentious Amour

Shenstone 149 To the Myrtle

Anon 154 Ode to Spring

A. M. Porter 156 Sonnet to Spring ·

Mrs. J. Cobbold 138 The Wintry Day

Mrs. Robinson 159 The Rose

Cowper 161 Winter Nose-gay

Cowper 163 Ode to Evening

Collins 164 Ode to the Evening Star

Bidlake 167 Ode to Leven-water

Smollet 168 The Oak of our Fathers

Anon 169 The Beech Tree's Petition

Campbell 171 The African

Southey 172 Stanzas, on the Death of a Lory, Rev. Wm. Clubbe

173 Lory's Ghost

Rev. IVm. Clubbe 175

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The man was clad in a mantle red,

And his bonnet was large and dark .; So musing still, he gained the hill,

The lady's bower to mark,

Twas black and drear; the silent trees

Stood tall, and still, arvund;
The long grass stirred not in the breeze;

The water gave no sound.

But the lady bright, on the battlements height,

He saw by the burning moon; From her locks so light, and hier garments white,

The stranger knew her soon,

“Ho ! Lady Anne, tħou must come down;

Thy husband sends for thee:-
By the cross of stone, on the heath alone,
He waits to fly with thee.


For the fight is o'er, and the rebel power,

“ Hath vanquished its lord ; “ And now his store is nothing more,

“ But only his good sword.”.

" Now tell me knight! by a warrior's might,

“ I charge thee, tell me true!
If from the fight, this fatal night,
“ My love, unhurt withdrew!


« Ah! be my bed, the leaves that are shed;

By Autumn's hollow wind, “ If on his breast, my head but rest,

“ The sweetest sleep I'll find.”.

“ He waits for thee,”—the knight replied,

By the mouldering cross of stone; Thy sleep will be sweet:” the stranger sigh’d“ But never sweet alone.

« Comc, mount thee here; nay do not fear,

“ Tho' the clouds be gathering fast: “ My courser's swift, for his career,

“ Is like the ocean's blast.”

They rode o'er hill, they rode o'er vale,

They rode thro' the groaning wood; Till by the glare of the lightning pale,

They saw the holy rood.

And near it lay a comely form,

In dusky armour drest-
He lay in sleep; and the raging storm;

Could not break his rest,

The warrior slept, and the lady stepped

His well-known form to fold;
She kiss'd his brow, but the nightly snow

is not so icy cold.

With piercing cries she rais'd her eyes,

And the stranger stood by her side;
His mantle was gone, and his armour shono,

And his dark plume floated wide.

His steed was formed of the foaming surf

Which rvars on Killarney's lake, When the furious blast its water casts,

And rocking turrets shake.

« Behold your Lord!" the phantom said,

“ The fight indeed is o'er; “ And under this shade my corse is laid,

“ To sleep for evermore.

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« But thou must with me; for the shoreless sea

Is given us for our reign; “ And Killarney's lake each year shall quake

“ For its prince and hero slain.

" Killarney's hills, and Killarney's caves,

• Our lonely dwellings must be, « Till this yearly hour, when its shuddering waves,

My airy horse shall see:

- Then in angry pomp, thro' the waters wide,

In lightning and thunder drest, Your prince shall ride, while the stormy tide

** O'erwhelms his vassal's rest.

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