This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1827 edition. Excerpt: ... LUCY; OR, THE MASKED BALL. A TALE. Who, wandering at early hour, While dewdrops hang on every flower, And twinkle, in the slanting rays, Like stars with irridesceut blaze; While birds, from copse and limber spray, Welcome with song the infant day: --Who, wandering then, can coldly view The smiling ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1827 edition. Excerpt: ... LUCY; OR, THE MASKED BALL. A TALE. Who, wandering at early hour, While dewdrops hang on every flower, And twinkle, in the slanting rays, Like stars with irridesceut blaze; While birds, from copse and limber spray, Welcome with song the infant day: --Who, wandering then, can coldly view The smiling Daisy bathed in dew; The Violet, from her leafy bed, The sweetest colours round her spread; And blushing, as her buds disclose Her all-unrivalled charms, the Rose, Lovely with Nature's simple grace! And ever wish to change their place? The Daisy in the rich parterre Would, cheerless, smile unnoticed; there, Vainly, the Violet dispense, Her perfume on the pamper'd sense, Which scarce can rouse from apathy The scents of Ind and Araby; And, but contemned her native grace, Droop the wild Rose in such a place. Like these young Lucy blossomed, ere Her bosom knew the pangs of care: A floweret meet for peaceful vale, Green glen, or still sequestered dale; A village maid, in simple dress, All meek retiring loveliness: Her joys so pure and innocent, She scarcely knew that Discontent, Corroding Envy, Hate, and Care, Inhabitants terrestrial were: For, in the hamlet where she dwelt, Their pestilence had not been felt;--Her world, within whose narrow bound Those gentle sympathies were found, Which harmonize frail human kind As earth and heaven were conjoin'd. But, where from earth is Grief exil'd? Young Lucy was affliction's child! Her sire had for his country bled And died, on Honour's gory bed; And, far from towns, his widow sped; Hoping, in this sweet solitude, She might the scorn of Pride elude; For well she knew, that the world's eye Falls cold upon adversity. In a green glen, embowered in trees, Yet open to the western breeze, Lay the small village, .
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