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" ROSE AYLMER AH, WHAT avails the sceptred race! Ah ! what the form divine ! What every virtue, every grace ! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee. "
Calendar - Page 513
by University of Calcutta - 1908
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The Oxford review; or, Literary censor, Volume 1

734 pages
...curiosity respecting their author. A name in his first poem, and the following lines in his second, " Ah what avails the sceptred race, Ah what the form divine ! What, every virtue, every grace! For, Ay liner, all were thine," presented but a delusive clue to our critical sagacity. In the third,...
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The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song: Selected from English and American ...

Charlotte Fiske Bates Rogé - American poetry - 1832 - 1022 pages
...grave, I pray you set One primrose or one violet. . . . Stay ... I can wait a little yet ROSE AYLMER. AH, what avails the sceptred race ? Ah, what the form divine ? What every virtue, every grace ? Rose Ayliner, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep but never see, A night of memories...
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The Living Age ..., Volume 195

1892
...tones his own exquisite lines : — Ah, what avails the sceptred race ! Ah, what the form divine 1 What every virtue, every grace ! Rose Aylmer, all...eyes May weep, but never see, A night of memories and sighs I consecrate to thee. The effect of the resonant pathos of his melodious voice, together with...
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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 33

1874
...ours will deal himself a like fatal blow, that we give the poem here. ROSE AYLMER. Ah, what av.iila the sceptred race ! Ah, what the form divine! What...virtue, every grace ! Rose Aylmer, all were thine. liose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never See, A night of memories and of sighs 1 conseerate...
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Lyra elegantiarum, a collection of some of the best specimens of vers de ...

Frederick Locker- Lampson - 1867
...sigh'd upon innocent lips, Which had never been sigh'd on by any but mine ! " Thomas Moore. cccxv1. AH ! what avails the sceptred race, Ah ! what the...night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee. Walter S. Landor. cccxvn. AN ITALIAN SONG. DEAR is my little native vale, The ringdove builds and murmurs...
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A household book of English poetry, selected with notes by R.C. Trench

Richard Chenevix Trench (abp. of Dublin) - 1868
...universe defy To quench his immortality, Or shake his trust in God ! So Thomas Campbell. CCLI ROSE AYLMER. Ah! what avails the sceptred race, Ah ! what the form...all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes 5 May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee. Walter Savage Landor....
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Walter Savage Landor, Volume 1

John Forster - 1869
...a very tender sentiment, went shortly afierwards to India and died suddenly while yet very young. " Ah, what avails the sceptred race, Ah, what the form...Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful e>es May weep, but never see, A night of memories and of sighs I consecrate to thee." The deep and...
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Walter Savage Landor: A Biography, Volume 2

John Forster - 1869 - 728 pages
...a very tender sentiment, went shortly afterwards to India and died suddenly while yet very young. " Ah, what avails the sceptred race, Ah, what the form divine ! What every virtue, every grace 1 Rose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep but never see, A night...
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Walter Savage Landor: A Biography, Volume 1

John Forster - 1869 - 1129 pages
...a very tender sentiment, went shortly afterwards to India and died suddenly while yet very young. " Ah, what avails the sceptred race, Ah, what the form divine ! What every virtue, every grace ! Hose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes May weep, but never see, A night...
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Walter Savage Landor: A Biography, Volume 2

John Forster - 1869 - 716 pages
...sentiment, went shortly afterwards to India and died suddenly while yet very young. " Ah, what avail» the sceptred race, Ah, what the form divine! What every virtue, every grace! Kose Aylmer, all were thine. Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes Мну weep but never see, A night...
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