Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore.

The harp that once through Tara's Hall The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's wall As if that soul were fled.

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms, Like fairy gifts fading awa…

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

I never saw a more beautiful woman, enormous eyes, skin the color of Devonshire cream.

Gid: hybrid of man, gargoyle, whorl, leaping insect.

The Admiral says that he never beheld so fair a thing: trees all along the river, beautiful and green, and different from ours, with flowers and fruits each ac…