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" Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down ; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own ; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. "
The woman of genius [by mrs. Ross]. - Page 197
by mrs. Ross - 1821
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Poets of England and America; being selections from the best authors of both ...

England - English poetry - 1860 - 472 pages
...o'er the fountain of our tears, • And though the eye may sparkle still, 't is where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; 'T is but as ivy -leaves around the ruined turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but...
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The poetical works of lord Byron, with illustr. by K. Halswelle

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1861
...of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may Hash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through...wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. Oh ! could I feel as I have felt,— or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English ...

Francis Turner Palgrave - English poetry - 1861 - 332 pages
...breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth former hope of rest; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. As springs in deserts found...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language

English poetry - 1863 - 405 pages
...o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 't is where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...hours that yield no more their former hope of rest ; 'T is but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but...
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Poetical Works, Volume 1

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1866
...frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...hours that yield no more their former hope of rest ; [wreathe, 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret All green and wildly fresh without, but...
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Golden Leaves from the British Poets

John William Stanhope Hows - English poetry - 1866 - 546 pages
...sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth attract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more...former hope of rest ; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. O could I feel...
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Poems

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1866 - 719 pages
...sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract tha breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest ; 'Tis but as ivy -leases around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language

Francis Turner Palgrave - English poetry - 1867 - 332 pages
...frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...rest; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. As springs in deserts found...
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Sunday readings (verses).

Sunday readings - 1867
...heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears; And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...that yield no more their former hope of rest; "Tis hut as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, hut worn and...
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The Pictorial edition of the works of Shakspere, ed. by C. Knight. [8 vols ...

William Shakespeare - 1867
...o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, Ч is where the ice appears. ve her, master Brook ; m ; 'T is but as Ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but...
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