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612-822-4611
The Harp of Erin, the Poetical Works of T. Dermody [Ed. by J.G. Raymond].

The Harp of Erin, the Poetical Works of T. Dermody [Ed. by J.G. Raymond].

Paperback

Currently unavailable to order

ISBN10: 1150721235
ISBN13: 9781150721236
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 166
Weight: 0.55
Height: 0.38 Width: 9.01 Depth: 5.98
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1807 edition. Excerpt: ...point of simplicity alone, to attract your notice. As I intended it only for your Ladyship's amusement and was somewhat assured of that partiality which I have always received, in your flattering critique on any piece of mine, I did not consequently, write to please others; and if they find out many faults, let them consider that I did not study to gain the commendation of All, but of One, who, if she could find the least spark of genius, or the most pitiable sign of moving the passions, would, I am certain, pardon the whole. And I shall be superlatively happy in affording the least pleasure to a person whose fine taste, and mental sensibility, are only to be equalled by her unbounded generosity. Madam, I have the honour to be Your obliged humble servant, THOMAS DERMODY. Belmont, July 13, 1790. EDMUND AND ELWINA. Fierce war, and faithful love, And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest. Gray's Bard. AH! dry, my love, that tender tear, That bursting sigh restrain, For Edmund loads the sable bier, And tears and sighs are vain. In me a kinder heart behold, In me a purer love; I strove to gain thy hand of old. But ah! in vain I strove. So languid grew thy melting eye, So heav'd thy panting breast, That I could ne'er approach thee nigh, But sigh among the rest. Then turn again that eye so blue, Then let thy bosom beat, For with a heart so pure, so true, I kneel before thy feet. One glance of genial love impart, One smile extend to me, And cure again that aching heart, That always bled for thee. Ev'n now I feel thy heav'nly charms, My heart can feel them now; And, sunk within thy snowy arms, I ratify my vow. Hold, impious wretch! a peasant cry'd, In minstrel's garb array'd, Nor...