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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1820 Excerpt:...Time be still. LXI. She faded like the soft and summer light That mingles gently with the darkness, and Seems woo'd not conquer'd by the coming night, Meeting his dim embrace but not command, Until it sinks and vanishes, and the sight On mockeries of the past alone is strain'd. Thus Jove, drawn out in all Corregio's charms, Wraps the sweet lo in his shadowy arms. LXII. Alas I she was so young--but Death has no Compassion on the young more than the old, She wore a patient look, but free from woe Unto the last, ('tis thus the story's told;) She never look'd reproachful--peevish, tho' Her lady sister would not seldom scold, Because the girl had fancied her old lover; For none could any other cause discover. LXIII. O, melancholy Love! amidst thy fears, Thy darkness, thy despair, there runs a vein Of pleasure, like a smile 'midst many tears,--The pride of sorrow that will not complain--The exultation that in after years The lov'd one will discover--and in vain, How much the heart silently in its cell Did suffer till it broke, yet nothing tell. LXIV. Else--wherefore else doth lovely woman keep Lock'd in her heart of hearts, from every gaze Hidden, her struggling passion--wherefore weep In grief that never while it flows allays Those tumults in the bosom buried deep, And robs her bright eyes of their natural rays. Creation's sweetest riddle!--yet, remain Just as thou art; man's only worthy gain. LXV. And thou, poor Spanish maid, ah! what hadst thou Done to the archer blind, that he should dart His cruel shafts 'till thou wast forced to bow In bitter anguish, aye, endure the smart The more because thou wor"st a smiling brow While the dark arrow canker'd at thy heart? Yet jeer her not: if 'twere a folly, she Hath paid (how firmly paid) Love's penalty. LXVI. Oft...