Narrative poems on the Female Character in the various relations of life. By Mary Russell Mitford ... Vol. I |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. | XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
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 | Narrative poems on the Female Character |  |
XLII.
Again the shuddering lover view'd,By famine and by toil subdued,
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Again he mark'd the hollow eye;
The sunken cheek, the panting sigh;
The cold dews starting from each pore;
The lips which roses wont to paint,
Pale-quivering now; the ringlets faint,
Once light as plumage of the dove,
And buoyant as the breath of love,
Now clinging to her forehead damp;
He mark'd the varying colors break,
In fitful brightness, o'er her cheek,
Now ashy pale, now blushing meek;
Like flashes of th' expiring lamp.
Deep groans his tortur'd bosom swell:
“Hush! she revives: all will be well!”
Cried the fair sanguine Isabel.
| Narrative poems on the Female Character | |