The Port Folio

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Editor and Asbury Dickens, 1814 - Philadelphia (Pa.)

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Page 94 - But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be 'rent : Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race : There, from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life ; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse : Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
Page 282 - As once I wept, if I could weep My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed; To gaze, how fondly ! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.
Page 264 - Their object was not to do injury, and thus provoke the Great Spirit, but to do good.
Page 280 - AND thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth ; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon return'd to Earth ! Though earth received them in her bed, And o'er the spot the crowd may tread In carelessness or mirth, There is an eye which could not brook A moment on that grave to look.
Page 191 - I view Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue. Though battle call me from thy arms, Let not my pretty Susan mourn ; Though cannons roar, yet, safe from harms, William shall to his dear return. Love turns aside the balls that round me fly, Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye.
Page 190 - Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee. "Believe not what the landsmen say, Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind: They'll tell thee sailors when away, In every port a mistress find : Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so, For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
Page 274 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.
Page 280 - It is enough for me to prove That what I loved, and long must love, Like common earth can rot; To me there needs no stone to tell, 'Tis nothing that I loved so well.
Page 98 - Who would be doom'd to gaze upon A sky without a cloud or sun ? Less hideous far the tempest's roar Than ne'er to brave the billows more — Thrown, when the war of winds is o'er, A lonely wreck on fortune's shore, 'Mid sullen calm, and silent bay, Unseen to drop by dull decay ; — Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock...
Page 281 - Shall never more be thine. The silence of that dreamless sleep I envy now too much to weep ; Nor need I to repine That all those charms have pass'd away I might have watch'd through long decay.

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