Second love, and other tales, from the note-book of a traveller [J.P. Simpson].

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Side 40 - Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea Loves to have his sails filled with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low That she drinks water and her keel ploughs air. There is no danger to a man that knows What life and death is; there's not any law Exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful That he should stoop to any other law.
Side 259 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone...
Side 260 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Side 206 - Ask me not what the maiden feels, Left in that dreadful hour alone: Perchance her reason stoops or reels; Perchance a courage, not her own, Braces her mind to desperate tone. The scattered van of England wheels; She only said, as loud in air The tumult roared, "Is Wilton there?" They fly! or maddened by despair Fight but to die — "Is Wilton there?
Side 206 - Are aglets on her sleeve, pins on her train : And those that should be powerful and divine, Do sleep in darkness when they most should shine.
Side 259 - Bos. Do you not weep? Other sins only speak; murder shrieks out: The element of water moistens the earth, But blood flies upwards and bedews the heavens. Ferd. Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle: she died young.
Side 20 - To be a cursed woman! when you knew Your blessing had no force to make me lewd, You laid your curse upon me ; that did more : The mother's curse is heavy; where that fights, Sons set in storm and daughters lose their lights.
Side 125 - I adore thee, love thee, worship thee ! (Victoria looks haughty and displeased.) Ah ! pardon me, I know not what I say. Ah ! frown not thus ! I cannot see thee frown. I'll do whate'er thou wilt, I will be silent ; But O ! a reined tongue, and bursting heart, Are hard at once to bear ! will thou forgive me ? Viet.
Side 269 - Come, come, my lord, untie your folded thoughts, And let them dangle loose, as a bride's hair.* Your sister's poison'd.

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