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A N D alluded Amid beautiful bell Beneath bliſs break buried cheek CHURCH church-yard clerk cold collect color COPIES cry'd Curate of Bowes daughter Hannah deſired died E D W EDWIN AND EMMA ETCHED event expired fair Father feel flame fortune Free fruitleſs grave hearing heart heaven ILLUSTRATED knew known laſt late letter live London lover maiden March Mark Martha melancholy memorial mention mother's motive neighbour night o'er opportunity ORIGINAL EDITION pale parents PARISH paſſionately paſt perſon plain poem POSTSCRIPT present preserve pride Printed PUBLISHED quickly Railton REGISTER REMAINING residence ſame scene ſee ſeen ſhall ſhe Siſter ſome ſong ſoul spot ſpreading ſtand standing Stanemore thro uſe vale wept Whoſe wife wind wiſh Wrightſon Yorkſhire young
Page 6 - The father too, a sordid man, Who love nor pity knew, Was all-unfeeling as the clod, From whence his riches grew.
Page 14 - She was civilly received by the mother, who bid her welcome — when it was too late. But her daughter Hannah lay at his back, to cut them off from all opportunity of exchanging their thoughts. At her return home, on hearing the bell toll out for his departure, she screamed aloud that her heart was burst, and expired some moments after. The then Curate of Bowes...
Page 4 - There beauteous EMMA flourifh'd fair Beneath a mother's eye, Whofe only wifh on earth was now To fee her bleft, and die. The fofteft blufh that nature fpreads Gave colour to her cheek ; Such orient colour fmiles thro' heav'n When May's fweet mornings break.
Page 13 - Mr. Copperthwaite, at Marrick. WORTHY SIR, * * * As to the affair mentioned in yours; it happened long before my time. I have therefore been obliged to consult my Clerk, and another person in the neighbourhood, for the truth of that melancholy event. The history of it is as follows. The family name of the young man was Wrightson ; of the young maiden, Railton.
Page 5 - And though by all a wonder own'd, Yet knew not she was fair. Till Edwin came, the pride of swains, A soul devoid of art ; And from whose eye, serenely mild, Shone forth the feeling heart.
Page 11 - That angel-faee no more, XXIV. I feel, I feel this breaking heart Beat high againft my fide — From her white arm down funk her head ; She fhivering figh'd, and dy'd.
Page 5 - What happy hours of heartfelt blifs, Did love on both beftow ! But blifs too mighty long to laft, Where fortune proves a foe.