The Hobart Town Magazine, Volume 2

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H. Melville, 1834 - Tasmania
 

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Page 243 - And why ? I was grieved at the wicked : I do also see the ungodly in such prosperity.
Page 103 - But now the sounds of population fail, No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale, No busy steps the grass-grown foot-way tread, But all the bloomy flush of life is fled...
Page 103 - The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school, The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
Page 103 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well : Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.
Page 151 - While yet a boy I sought for ghosts, and sped Through many a listening chamber, cave and ruin, And starlight wood, with fearful steps pursuing Hopes of high talk with the departed dead.
Page 137 - Press her lips the while they glow With love that they have often told, — Hereafter thou mayst press in woe, And kiss them till thine own are cold. Press her lips the while they glow!
Page 103 - The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school , The watchdog's voice that bayed the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind...
Page 103 - She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn, To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn ; She only left of all the harmless train, The sad historian of the pensive plain.
Page 103 - Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close Up yonder hill the village murmur rose; There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came softened from below; The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school...
Page 263 - ... supply all demands of this nature; and if the histories of every house were made public, you would shudder. Even in our small menage, our cook has committed murder, our footman burglary, and the housemaid bigamy ! But these formidable truths are hushed up, or tried to be so.

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