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52 PHANTASTES: |
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V.
And she was smooth and full, as if one gush Of life had washed her, or as if a sleep Lay on her eyelid, easier to sweep Than bee from daisy.
Beddoes' Pygmalion.
Sche was as whyt as lylye yn May, Or snow that sneweth yn wynterys day.
Romance of Sir Launfal.
I walked on, in the fresh morning air, as if new-born. The only thing that damped my pleasure, was a cloud of something between sorrow and delight, that crossed my mind with the frequently returning thought of my last night's hostess. " But then," thought I, " if she is sorry, I could not help it; and she has all the pleasures she ever had. Such a day as this, is surely a joy to her, as much at least as to me. And her life will perhaps be the richer, for holding now within it the memory of what came, but could not stay. And if ever she is a woman, who knows but we may meet somewhere ? there is plenty of room for meeting |
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