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James Shirley 142

An Apology for having loved before Waller 140

Upon my Mistress Dancing.
Sonnet

On Aurelia's Blushing

The Hue and Cry

Ledyard's Praise of Women

Stanzas on Woman.

C. Leftley, Esq. 142

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A. M. Porter 143

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Hurdis 144

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Barbauld 147

Goldsmith 149

Elegy, describing the Sorrow of an ingenuous

Mind on the melancholy event of a

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Stanzas, on the Death of a Lory, Rev. Wm.

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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.

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'Twas black and drear; the silent trees
Stood tall, and still, around;

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 her garments white, The stranger knew her soon,

"Ho! Lady Anne, thou must come down;

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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,

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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,

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By the mouldering cross of stone;

Thy sleep will be sweet:" the stranger sigh'd"But never sweet alone.

"Come, 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 shone,
And his dark plume floated wide.

His steed was formed of the foaming surf
Which roars 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,

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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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