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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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Cassell's library of English literature, selected, ed. and arranged by H. Morley

Cassell, ltd - 1883
...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...and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many...
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Wordsworth to Dobell

Thomas Humphry Ward - English poetry - 1883
...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...and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er...
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With the poets: a selection of English poetry. [Ed.] by F.W. Farrar

Frederic William Farrar - English poetry - 1883 - 412 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...yield no more their former hope of rest ; 'Tis but as ivy leaves around the ruined turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath....
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Five Minutes: Daily Readings of Poetry

1883
...frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And tho' the eye may sparkle still, 'tis when the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...yield no more their 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...
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With the Poets: A Selection of English Poetry

Frederic William Farrar - English poetry - 1883 - 290 pages
...'tis where the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breai-t, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest ; 'Tis but as ivy leaves around the ruined turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath....
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Wordsworth to Dobell

Thomas Humphry Ward - English poetry - 1884
...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...and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er...
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Five minutes daily readings of poetry, selected by H.L.S. Lear

Five minutes daily readings - American poetry - 1884 - 391 pages
...frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And tho' the eye may sparkle still, 'tis when the ice appears. Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract...hours, that yield no more their former hope of rest ; 'Tisbut as ivy leaves around the ruin'd turret wreathe, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn...
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The poetical works of lord Byron, with notes, Volume 4

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1885
...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...and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt,—or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many...
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Red-letter Poems by English Men and Women

Thomas Young Crowell - English poetry - 1885 - 648 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...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. ЭЫ could I feel...
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Standard English Poems: Spenser to Tennyson

English poetry - 1899 - 749 pages
...breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; 14 'Tis but as ivy leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and Wildly fresh without, but worn and gray beneath. V. Oh could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once...
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