. Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern. —I cannot do it here. {Exit. Enter Rezenvelt, and continues his way slowly frotn the bottom of thestage; as he advances to the front, the owl screams, he stops andlistens, and the screams again. Rezenvelt — Ha! does the night-bird greet me on my way?How much his hooting is in harmonyWith such a scene as this! I like it when a boy, at the still twilight hour,Ive leant my back against some knotted oak,And loudly mimicked him, till to my callHe answer would return, and through the gloomWe friendly converse m
. Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern. —I cannot do it here. {Exit. Enter Rezenvelt, and continues his way slowly frotn the bottom of thestage; as he advances to the front, the owl screams, he stops andlistens, and the screams again. Rezenvelt — Ha! does the night-bird greet me on my way?How much his hooting is in harmonyWith such a scene as this! I like it when a boy, at the still twilight hour,Ive leant my back against some knotted oak,And loudly mimicked him, till to my callHe answer would return, and through the gloomWe friendly converse me and the star-bespangled sk5^Those aged oaks their crossing branches through them looks the pale and placid like a crocodile, or winged sailing cloud bears on its dusky length!And now transformed by the passing wind,Methinks it seems a flying , but a shapeless band of blacker hueComes swiftly after.— A hollow murmring wind sounds through the trees;I hear it from afar; this bodes a must not linger here —. MRS. SIDDUNS AS THE TRAGIC MUSB)From Painting bij Sir Joshua lieymld,- JOANNA BAILLIE 126? [A bell heard at soine distance.] The convent distant still: it tells their hour of sends a solemn sound upon the breeze,That, to a fearful, superstitious such a scene, would like a death-knell come. [Exit. TO MRS. SIDDONS GIFTED of heaven! who hast, in days gone every heart, delighted every eye;While age and youth, of high and low degree,In sympathy were joined, beholding thee,As in the Dramas ever-changing sceneThou heldst thy splendid state, our tragic queen!No barriers there thy fair domains sovereign sway was oer the human mind;And in the triumph of that witching lofty bearing well became thy power. The impassioned changes of thy beauteous stately form, and high imperial grace;Thine arms impetuous tossed, thy robes wide flow,And the dark tempest gathered on thy br
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublisherny, bookyear1896
