...cruel wrongs Befcl the Dark Ladie. Few sorrows hath she for her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevicve ! She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve." — p. 28. It is much to be regretted that Coleridge has not oftener adopted this simple style, instead...

...to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own. My hope! my joy! my Genevieve! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could...

...my joy, my Geneviève! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The gongs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. SÜSte ¡n bei- J?Mjíe fíe ifyn wartet Unb гок fein Soben рф gelegt, 2fíá er aufé gel&e Saub...

...lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Geneviève ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...

...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. 1 played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story — An old rude song, that suited well...

...my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope ! my joy ! my Geuevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that...played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving stoiy — An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting...

...statne of the armed knight; She stood and listened to my harp, Amid the lingering light. I played a sad and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story, — An old rude song, that fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. Coleridge's Dark Ladie. He is forsworn, if e'tr those eyes of...

...those eyes of your» Behold another day-break in the East. But even this night, whose black contagious I sang an old and moving story,— An old rude song, that fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. breath Already smokes about the burning crest OF the old, feeble,...

...of the armed knight; She stood and I> ->> >>, , to my harp, Amid the lingering light. I pla>ed a sad and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story, — An old rnde soog, tlml fitted well That ruin wild and hoary. Coieridge's Dark Ladie. He is forsworn, if e'er...

...to my lay, Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope, my joy, my Genevieve I She loves me best whene'er I sing The songs that...rude song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blvfsh, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could...