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THE FAIREST LAND.

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THE FAIREST LAND. Tell me, gentle traveller, thou Who hast wander'd far and wide, Seen the sweetest roses blow, And the brightest rivers glide Say, of all thine eyes have seen, Which the fairest land has been ? Lady, shall I tell thee where Nature seems most blest and fair, Far above all climes beside ? 'Tis where those we love abide And that little spot is best w Which the loved one's foot hath press'd. Though it be a fairy space, Wide and spreading is the place Though 'twere but a barren mound become enchanted ground. With thee yon sandy waste would seem The margin of Al Cawthar's stream; And thou canst make a dungeon's gloom A bower where new-born roses bloom." A LOVER'S BALLAD. She's on my heart, she's in my thoughts, At midnight, morn, and noon December's snow beholds her there, And there the rose of June. I never breathe her lovely name When wine and mirth go round; But oh! the gentle moonlight air Knows well the silver sound. I care not if a thousand hear When other maids I praise- I would not have my brother by When upon her I gaze. The dew were from the lily gone, The gold had losl its shine, If any but my love herself Could hear me call her mine

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A L M ANACK FOR 1846.

LONDON AND PARIS FASHIONS…

THE BISHOP OF LLANDAFF'S CHARGE.

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