. Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern. — I cannot do it here. [Exit. Enter Rezenvelt, and continues his way slowly from the bottom of thestage; as he advances to the front, the owl screams, he stops, andlistens, and the owl 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


. Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern. — I cannot do it here. [Exit. Enter Rezenvelt, and continues his way slowly from the bottom of thestage; as he advances to the front, the owl screams, he stops, andlistens, and the owl 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 sky,Those aged oaks their crossing branches wave,And through them looks the pale and placid like a crocodile, or winged snake,Yon 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 —. MKS. SIDDONS AS THE TKAGIC MTJKEFrom Painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds JOANNA BAILLIE [A bell heard at some distance.] The convent distant still: it tells their hour of sends a solemn sound upon the breeze,That, to a fearful, superstitious mind, > In such a scene, would like a death-knell come. 1265 [Exit. TO MRS. SIDDONS Gifted of heaven! who hast, in days gone by,Moved 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 confined,Thy sovereign sway was oer the human mind;And in the triumph of that witching hour,Thy lofty bearing well became thy power. The impassioned changes of thy beauteous face,Thy stately form, and high imperial grace;Thine arms impetuous tossed, thy robes wide flow,And the dark tempest gathered on thy


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidcu3192406643, bookyear1896